Through Muggleborn Eyes: Year Four
by Kris Pilar
Summary: After a fun summer and the Quidditch World Cup, and the Triwizard Tournament coming to Hogwarts, Bryt's excited to meet the new schools and enjoy herself safely away from trouble. That is, until Harry's name is mysteriously chosen as one of the champions.
1. An Early Morning

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize. All of that belongs to JK Rowling.

**-----**

Sunlight streaming from the window next to Bryt Watkins's bed pulled her from her dreamless sleep. Bryt gave a groan, rolling over to turn her back to the window and yanked the covers over her head, not wanting to wake up yet. She was still tired from the fifteen hour flight she had arrived on just the night before and all she wanted to do was stay under her blanket and go back to sleep.

Unfortunately, one of her friends had other plans.

"C'mern, lazy-asses!" one-year-older Sofí García was speaking very loudly and Bryt suddenly felt the blanket yanked off her head, "It's eight already! Get up!"

"Sofí, let us sleep!" Bryt snapped, pulling her pillow over her head.

"We didn't get in until midnight," the voice of Bryt's closest friend, Hermione Granger, came from the bed next by and the tone showed she was just as reluctant to get up as Bryt was.

"Then you can have some coffee, just get up!" Sofí said brightly and Bryt heard footsteps across the floor, followed by the door closing.

Bryt gave a groan, knowing if she didn't get up, Sofí would resort to more drastic measures, which could include anything from simple water dumped on her to having the entire bed flipped over, with her still in it.

"Some way to welcome us," Bryt grumbled, moving her pillow off her head as she sat up, referring to the fact that Hermione and Bryt's flight had arrived so late the night before that the only person the girls had talked to was Mrs. García(who had been working that day anyway and simply stayed late at the airport to pick up the girls).

Hermione had sat up as well, looking almost comedic with her tired expression and her usually bushy hair even wilder due to tangles from the night's sleeping.

"One day I'm gonna strangle that girl," Bryt said, stifling a yarn as she swung her legs off the bed and stood up, her feet hitting the rug spread across nearly the entire of the guest room floor of the García home.

Bryt stretched her arms over her head, which allowed her to touch part of the slanted roof of the room, considering the guest room was in what was once the storage attic over the garage until ten years ago.

"We'll still have to unpack sometime today," Bryt continued, looking over to where she and Hermione had just dropped their suitcases between the third guest room bed and the low chest-of-drawers that sat against the only full wall of the room and had a wall-mounted mirror above it.

"How do you deal with these flights every year, Bryt?" Hermione asked. Obviously the girl was going to be going through a case of jet lag. Bryt hoped that Hermione's wouldn't be too bad and would be over it soon enough.

For a second, Bryt had the urge to tease Hermione. She bit it back, though, because she had learned the hard way that someone going through jet lag can be extremely irritable, plus Bryt knew from their past year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that Hermione could be irritable enough when stressed or tired. Jet lag was only going to make things worse.

Instead, Bryt kept quiet, heading over to her suitcase and got out a pair of shorts and a tank top to change into. Once dressed, Bryt grabbed her brush and a hair band, sitting down on the unused guest room bed, undoing the braid her dark blonde hair had been in overnight and started brushing through her tangles.

"My hair's gettin' long again," Bryt said, fighting with a particularly nasty knot, "I'll need to get it cut soon."

"But your hair looks so nice long," Hermione said and Bryt looked through her hair to see she had already dressed and was brushing through her own hair.

"Trust me, Hermione," Bryt said, "With the summers here, the last thing I want is to have long, thick hair. You'll find out soon enough, your hair's probably thicker than mine."

Hermione made a noise and Bryt knew to drop it there. She had a feeling that Hermione was going to be the type who was the worst when it came to jet lag, so it would be best to be overly cautious around her.

Bryt pulled her hair into a high ponytail to keep her hair off the back of her neck before pulling on her shoes and waiting on Hermione. She grabbed her orange miniature backpack (for Bryt refused to call it a 'backpack _purse_') that Sofí had sent her for her past birthday. Bryt had learned it made a perfect place to store her camera, extra money, and diary, along with a self-inking quill, and usually kept the backpack with her everywhere she went.

Once both girls were ready and made sure they had their wands, they headed down the small hallway and staircase into the open main room of the house.

The room was narrow, going the length of the front of the house (at least to the wall separating the room from the garage) with dark wooden walls and flooring (as the house was quite old, built in the Colonial times, though the garage was added on sometime in the nineteen-seventies) with a short counter top—which was half taken up by the sink—a stove, and the fridge, all up against the narrow staircase. A dining table that barely sat six was sitting close to the kitchenette with a small lead-off side area where the fireplace sat with cabinets anchored on the wall above it. Behind the dining table was a short couch sitting across from TV and bookshelf, with an owl cage sitting on top of the TV where the García family striped owl, Venturo, was sleeping.

Julio García sat at the table in shorts and a tank top, his shoulder-length black hair left loose around his face while he rested his head in his hand, looking as if he were half-asleep, a newspaper laying in front of him, though still on the front page. When Julio noticed Bryt and Hermione, though, he straightened up and grinned.

"I see Sofí gave y'all a wake up call, too," he said, his voice having the same Spanish-Southern drawl-crossed accent as his sister. Julio stood up, coming over and giving them both a hug, and Bryt noticed his hug lingered longer with Hermione.

"Should've known better than to think she'd respect that we didn't get here 'til the middle of the night," Bryt replied.

"Where is she, anyway?" Hermione asked in a sharp tone, looking around. Julio blinked at her before turning to Bryt.

"Jet lag," Bryt said simply.

Julio gave a nod, accepting the short explanation.

"Sofí's probably finishin' gettin' ready," he said, "That girl takes longer each day."

"Mr. and Mrs. García still asleep?" Bryt asked, opening the dishwasher for a bowl, then going to the fridge to see if the Garcías still kept grapefruits.

"Dad left fer Quid-And-Quod 'round seven, I guess," Julio said with a shrug, "When he usually leaves. Mom's off work today, so she might still be asleep. Grapefruits are in the bottom drawer."

"Thanks," Bryt said, quickly finding the fruit and cutting it in half before grabbing a spoon and turning to Hermione, "Want some?"

"No thanks," Hermione said, sitting down next to Julio at the table. Bryt shrugged, coming over and sitting down at the table herself.

"D'yah _haveta_ eat that here?" Julio asked, glaring at the fruit in Bryt's bowl.

"Would you rather I go sit over there—" Bryt pointed towards the couch with her spoon, "—and get grapefruit juice all over everythin'?"

"Point taken," Julio sighed, "Jus' try not to get too much all over everyhin', m'kay?"

"Can't make promises, you know how grapefruit is."

Julio made a noise, turning to Hermione, who looked like she was having trouble keeping her eyes open.

"All I want to do right now is go back to sleep..." Hermione said, stifling a yawn.

"That's the jet lag," Bryt said, sitting down, "You'll get over it in a couple of days."

"Hopefully you'll be better by tomorrow night, Hermione," Julio said.

Bryt grinned, thinking about the Fourth of July celebration that Julio and Sofí were taking them to the next night. Bryt hadn't celebrated the holiday since moving to the United Kingdom, let alone attended a celebration that would involve a large group of wizards. Bryt was really looking forward to it.

"Where's the party, anyway?" Bryt asked.

"Drakescale Shore," Julio replied.

"That's where Dad's shop is."

Bryt looked over her shoulder to see Sofí had come down, wearing her usual plaid skirt over knee-length leggings, Attitude Dude shirt, and platform boots that added unnecessarily to her already near-six-foot height. She had done her mid-back-length black hair in her usual twin braids to keep it off the back of her neck in the summer heat.

Hermione gave Sofí an annoyed look, probably still angry about being woken up so rudely that morning. She kept quiet, though, and Sofí didn't seem to notice the look she had gotten.

"What's news?" Sofí asked, looking at Julio before grabbing a box of cereal from on top of the fridge, then getting a bowl and spoon.

Bryt looked at the newspaper Julio had been reading and saw _The Observer Chronicle_ in large letters across the top and the front page holding a picture of an attractive dark-haired man who seemed in his thirties with a gentle-looking brown-haired woman, both smiling and waving at the camera.

"Secretary Barloon's set his weddin' date fer September 25th," Julio said, "Dunno why they put it on the front page, why would people care 'bout the Secretary of Magic's personal life?"

"C'mern, gossip's always good," Sofí said.

"Fer _you_, maybe. I couldn' care less."

"Yeah, all _yer_ carrin' 'bout is gettin' yer KAE results."

Julio glared at his sister, who had referred to the Knowledge Application Examinations that Julio had taken at only a couple of weeks before, which he needed to pass to continue to the CAPE (Career Application Placement Exams) levels.

"My KAEs ain't the _only_ thing I care about," he said, "But I am worryin' 'bout them—"

"When yah don' need tah. We all know yer gonna pass everythin'."

"But Drescher Clinic has high expectations," Julio said, getting increasingly annoyed, referring to the fact that he planned to be a Healer after graduating from Salem Witch's Institute, "Though all I need tah do is pass my KAEs, Drescher's gonna accept someone with fours and fives over someone who gets threes."

"Ain't gotta worry, yeh'll get straight fives."

"How do you know?"

Bryt rolled her eyes, fighting back a laugh, being strongly reminded of Hermione as the end of term exams began to approach at Hogwarts. Bryt looked over at Hermione as her friends continued to argue to see Hermione had leaned over to read the newspaper in front of Julio, obviously curious about the current events in the country she was visiting.

"Kids, it's eight-thirty on a Saturday mornin'! D'yah _have_ tah be arguin' already?"

Bryt looked up to see that Mrs. García had come from the door near the couch, obviously woken up by the commotion happening in the kitchenette as her long hair was still tangled and she wore a fluffy bathrobe over her pajamas.

Mrs. García definitely stood out in her family. While Mr. García, Julio, and Sofí were dark-haired, dark-eyed, and had tanner skin, Mrs. García had light brown hair, bright blue eyes, and freckled skin. Though if one looked close enough, there was plenty of resemblance in the facial structure between Mrs. García and her daughter.

"Sorry, Momma," Sofí said, grinning a bit, "Julio's jus' freakin' over his KAEs."

"No I ain't," Julio snapped.

Mrs. García looked towards her daughter and made a face before sighing and turning, informing the group to keep it down, and heading back to her bedroom. Bryt knew that Mrs. García didn't exactly like Sofí's fashion choice, but since Sofí hadn't fallen into the recent fad of tube skirts and belly shirts, she left her daughter be on her clothes.

"Weren't you running for student president, too?" Bryt asked, turning back to her friends.

"_Vice secretary_ fer the Tumbleweed Dorm," Julio corrected, "Salem follows there bein' a Secretary of Magic, not a president like with the Muggles. Anyway, I'm supposed to find out if I won the student election when I get my KAE results."

"I don't see why people wouldn't choose you," Hermione said, looking up from the newspaper. Julio gave her a grin in return.

"Y'two gonna start kissin' now?"

Bryt fought back a laugh as both Julio and Hermione turned red as they glared at Sofí, who simply grinned back at them.

"So," Bryt started, deciding to change the subject, "What should we do today?"

"I was hoping to visit some of the sights around Charleston," Hermione said eagerly, "Like the forts you told me about once, Bryt. Fort Sumter and Moultrie, right? Or maybe one of the plantation houses. There's also that aircraft carrier, USS Yorktown, right? Oh, there are so many places. This city is so full of history..."

"_Boooorin'_," Sofí said, dragging out the word, "Besides, I made plans to play pick-up Quodpot with a few guys 'round here, tah show y'all a real game, not that crappy Quidditch."

"Don' you _dare_ start on Quidditch, Sofí," Julio said, glaring at his sister. Sofí just rolled her eyes, turning to Bryt.

"How 'bout you?" she asked, "Wanna go see borin' tourist attractions or come play a real sport?"

Bryt sighed, really not wanting to get into the middle of the conversation. She didn't exactly think the history of Charleston was boring, but she had lived in the city until three years ago and she had seen the places before on school field trips when she attended Springfield Elementary School. Until she was eleven, she had heard about the places at lest daily, they were nothing special to her.

"Why don' I take Hermione out to wherever she wants, and you head out with Bryt?" Julio asked, which only caused Sofí to smirk more.

"Sounds good to me," Bryt said before Sofí could speak up herself, "But I don't have my broom, there was no way I was gonna get it through the airport, so I left it locked in my school trunk."

"Y'can borrow mine," Julio said, "It's a Nimbus Seventeen-Hundred, like yers, so it won' take gettin' used to. Hold on, I'll go get it."

"Grab mine from my room while yer up there!" Sofí called after her brother as he headed up the stairs.

"Are you sure you two are okay with this?" Hermione asked looking between Sofí and Bryt.

"Positive," Bryt said, finishing her breakfast and throwing away the grapefruit skin before rinsing out her bowl and washing her face and hands, "I've seen all of the 'big places' around here at one point or another, they're just not that much of a big deal for someone who grew up here, I guess. I haven't gotten to fly much since I got my broom, so this is great for me."

"Besides, how else would you and Julio enjoy a nice date?"

"Sofí!" Bryt hissed, glaring at the half-Hispanic girl as Hermione went a very bright shade of red. Sofí just started laughing.

"C'mern, Julio's been wantin' to ask Hermione out since last summer," Sofí said, leaning back in her chair since she was done with her cereal, then she suddenly gave a yelp and covered her head. Bryt and Hermione looked up to see Julio had come back down and had hit Sofí on the head with a broom, his face bright red.

"Er, thanks for the broom, Julio," Bryt said, taking Julio's broom from him, "Sofí, how long we gonna be out?"

"Probably all day," Sofí answered, rubbing the back of her head, turning from her brother, "Don' worry 'bout lunch, though. We'll Floo to August Jonner's house, he's one of the people we're playin' with." Sofí paused to make a face. "Who in their right mind names their kid August?"

"Hey, I happen to really like that name," Bryt said, looking over at Sofí with a slight glare, "In fact, if I ever have a son, that's what I plan to name him."

"What if the father doesn' like the name?" Julio asked.

"He ain't gettin' a choice."

Hermione and Julio both sighed, shaking their heads as Sofí laughed.

"Sorry, Brychelle, but 'August Boot' jus' doesn' sound like that great of a name."

Bryt felt her face grow warm as she glared at her friend, unable to figure out how to reply to that comment as she gripped Julio's broom tightly between her hands.

"Terry and I haven't even been datin' half a year yet," she finally managed, "Besides the fact we're only _fourteen_."

"Doesn' mean you can't think on the future," Sofí said with a smirk, "By the way, I think 'August Weasley' would be a much better name."

"_What the bloody hell is wrong with you?_" Bryt snapped, fighting the urge to hit Sofí with Julio's broom. She had hoped that Sofí would have been done with her obsession that Bryt needed to be dating Harry or Ron now that she had an actual boyfriend. Apparently, Sofí was still determined, and she seemed to find Bryt's reaction to her comment hilarious because she had begun laughing so hard that she accidentally knocked her chair backwards, falling to the floor.

"If you four are goin' tah be like this, _go outside_!"

Sofí instantly stopped laughing and all four of them looked towards Mrs. García, who was dressed for the day in a simple summer dress with her hair in a bun. She had her arms crossed over chest, glaring at the group.

"Sorry," Sofí said, grinning apologetically. Bryt knew that Mrs. García was the only woman who could get Sofí to settle down, even though it never lasted for long.

Mrs. García sighed and shook her head, looking at the group before going to the fridge.

"Roberto called yer parents 'fore he headed into work, Bryt," she said, "Tah let 'em know y'all got here safe."

"Thanks," Bryt said, "Um, Sofí, when do we need to go?"

"Whenever," Sofí said, "August knows we're just gonna show up sometime in the mornin'."

"Then you should get goin'," Mrs. García said, "Sooner y'all are gone, the sooner I can enjoy my day off."

Bryt grinned, giggling a little as Hermione gave Mrs. García an odd look. Then Julio leaned over to explain that Mrs. García's comment wasn't anything personal, it's just how she was.

"Then we're goin'," Sofí said, heading over to the fireplace and opening the food cabinet above it, pulling out a clear jar filled with some type of silvery powder.

Bryt already knew what to expect. She had never used the Floo Network herself, but she had heard from Harry two years before, plus Julio had given her tips on what to do and what not to do. Still, she was nervous about the experience.

"Where does August live?" Bryt asked as she moved closer to the fireplace so she had a better view of the pictures along the fireplace(which ranged from family portraits to old pictures of Mr. and Mrs. García with friends from their schools).

"Jonner Plantation," Sofí said, holding out the jar, "They know whatchya look like, so you can go first."

"Thanks," Bryt said, rolling her eyes as she took a pinch of the Floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace, causing the flames to go green. Bryt took a deep breath, stepped into the fire, and said, as clearly as she could, "Jonner Plantation."

**-----**

**A/N:** And here's the first chapter of Year Four. Hope you enjoy it.


	2. An Active Day

Everything was spinning around Bryt and she had squeezed her eyes shut, holding her breath as she kept the strongest grip she could manage on Julio's broom, hugging it against her chest. She couldn't hear anything over the loud roaring that reminded Bryt of the strong winds that came from the storms that would hit in her hometown. Even with her eyes closed, Bryt was feeling dizzy, and she was relieved she hadn't had much more than the grapefruit for breakfast, or else she might end up sick from all the spinning.

Bryt came to such a sudden stop that she lost balance and stumbled forward out of the fireplace, though she managed to catch herself before falling. She gave a cough, opening her light brown eyes and immediately checking to make sure her wand was still in her pocket.

Once sure she hadn't lost anything, Bryt looked down at herself and noticed she had blotches of soot on her. She sighed, dusting herself off. Looking around, Bryt was immediately taken in by the old plantation house. They were in a room that had been renovated into a kitchen somewhere along the passing years, though the kitchen was still very old-fashioned with a large cast-iron stove and highly polished wooden cabinets. As Bryt looked over at the sink, she noticed a creature with large ears and a long nose staring at her with eyes that seemed to take up half of its face. It was dressed in a pale blue dress with the sleeves rolled to the creature's elbows. The creature was clutching a rag in its hands and was so short that it had to stand on a step ladder to reach the sink of dishes it had apparently been cleaning a moment before.

"Er..." Bryt started, staring at the small creature, trying to figure out what she was supposed to say, and figure out what she was looking at. She had to admit, the creature did look a little like how Harry had described the house elf, Dobby, that he had met two years prior, but this creature was definitely wearing clothes, so couldn't be one of the enslaved creatures like in the United Kingdom. That was a relief to Bryt, she had a feeling that she would have definitely gotten off on the wrong foot with the Jonner family if it turned out they were using an enslaved creature to do their bidding, no matter how 'normal' it might be in the wizarding world.

There was a quick roar of flames behind Bryt and she looked over her shoulder to see Sofí had appeared in the large, stone fireplace, grinning at Bryt as she dusted soot off of her.

"Ah, Miss García! Is this young lady with you?"

Bryt turned to the high-pitched voice and realized it had come from the creature by the sink.

"Yep, this is Bryt Watkins," Sofí said with a grin, then turned to Bryt, "Brychelle, this is Wilsa, the Jonner's worker elf." Sofí turned back to the small creature, "D'yah know if August is up yet?"

Wilsa nodded, turning back to the dishes she had been cleaning.

"He's outside with Miss Jonner and Mr. Short—"

"Richard's actually here?"

Bryt looked at Sofí, surprised at how excited the girl looked over the news. Though Bryt quickly got over it, passing it off as this Richard was Sofí's latest in a long list of boy-targets(for Bryt was sure that Sofí had never had a real crush in her life).

Wilsa spun around, crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her large eyes, giving her a very comical appearance and Bryt had to fight not to laugh.

"Yes, that boy is spending the summer here," Wilsa said, "Now, Wilsa would appreciate it if you two got your asses out of her kitchen so she can get back to her work. Wilsa is paid to clean house, not talk about who is or isn't here. Now shoo!"

Wilsa pointed her rag-free hand at the door and Bryt was fighting laughing even more due to the little creature's demands and how high-pitched her voice was.

"Warnin', never laugh at a worker elf," Sofí whispered as she took Bryt by the arm, "They ain't very nice when they're angry."

Sofí led Bryt out of the room, though Wilsa had called after them "And you better not ruin Mrs. Jonner's garden again!" as they started down the hall.

"So there're worker elves here?" Bryt asked, "They're actually free to do what they want?"

"Yep," Sofí said with a nod, "They always go into work like housekeeping, gardening, stuff like the house elves in Britain, but worker elves're free to quit, go find a new family to work for, all that stuff. I think they just prefer housework."

Bryt nodded, making a mental note to talk to Hermione about this later. After all, neither of them thought too fondly on the way house elves were treated. Bryt knew Hermione would agree that elves in America had it much better off and something should be done to help the elves in the United Kingdom.

Sofí continued to lead Bryt to the back of the house and out into a large, open area where three people were sitting, all of whom had brooms with them and dressed appropriately for the summer heat.

Taking a closer look, Bryt took in their physical appearances. The boy in the middle seemed tall, had light blonde hair and blue eyes and had an overall build that reminded Bryt a little of Freddie Jones from _Scooby Doo_. Bryt had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling over it. On one side of him was a girl with the same shade of blonde hair, though her hair was in a long braid that went to her waist, and had dark eyes. Bryt guessed these two were brother and sister, probably the two Jonner kids, considering they had very similar facial structures, much like between Julio and Sofí. The second boy was very tall himself, easily six foot, and had a mess of red hair(though Bryt noted that it wasn't nearly as vivid as Ron's), gray eyes, and a face full of freckles. Bryt guessed this one had to be Richard, Sofí's recent target for a potential short-lived boyfriend.

"We're here!" Sofí announced, waving a hand in the air as she and Bryt headed across to the group, who had all looked up at them, and all three were studying Bryt.

Bryt gave a grin, waving at them as she balanced Julio's broom over her shoulder.

"Y'must be Bryt," the Fred Jones look-a-like said with a grin as he got up and held out his hand, "Nice t'meetchya, I'm August Jonner."

Bryt grinned and took August's hand to shake.

"Nice to meet you," she said, "Even though Sofí's told me nothin' about any you."

"I believe that," the girl said, coming over and holding her hand out to Bryt, "I'm Sandra Jonner."

"Pleasure to meet you," Bryt said with a grin and caught out of the corner of her eye that Sofí had sat next to the boy Bryt assumed was Richard—and, of course, seemed to be flirting with him, though it seemed to be making the poor boy uncomfortable.

"Oooh, say somethin' else," Sandra said, grinning at Bryt.

Bryt blinked, cocking her head as she turned back to Sandra.

"Er..." she started, and Sandra giggled.

"Yer accent sounds really interestin'," Sandra said.

Bryt was even more confused, staring at Sandra strangely. What could be so interesting about an accent? Or more importantly, _Bryt's_ accent.

"Er...You do know I was born in Charleston, right?" Bryt asked, "I grew up just down the street from Sofí. My accent ain't that special."

"Really?" Sandra asked, "You don' sound much like yer from 'round here."

"I've lived in London for the past three years."

"Well, the accent's rubbin' off," Sandra said with a nod, "It sounds really cool, actually."

Bryt was even more confused. She had never realized that her accent had changed. She had always thought her accent was still as purely Southern as it was three years ago. She wasn't too sure what to think about the idea that the way she talked had been changing without her even realizing it.

"So, are we gonna play or not?"

Bryt and Sandra turned to August, who had his broom over his shoulder and was standing between Richard and Sofí, obviously interrupting Sofí's flirting.

"We...have five players," Richard spoke up. The boy had such quiet voice that Bryt had barely heard him. Bryt suddenly wondered if his uncomfortable reaction to Sofí's flirting was because the boy was very shy. Bryt's suspicion was strengthened when she looked over to Richard and he averted his gaze quickly, gripping his broom tightly. "Five's uneven..." he said, "It won't be fair for the teams."

"You can play," Bryt said, grinning, "I've never even _seen_ Quodpot before, so I'd rather just watch...And maybe take some pictures."

"You've never seen a Quodpot match?" August asked, looking as if Bryt had just told him that she didn't know what the sky was. Sandra and Richard were staring at Bryt with similar expressions.

"We prefer Quidditch," Bryt said and Sofí started giggling. Bryt gave her a strange look, but Sofí just grinned, obviously not planning to share what she had found so amusing about Bryt's comment.

"Well, y'can watch, then," August said, "If yah decide you wanna join, jus' let us know and we'll rotate someone out. Sound fair?"

Bryt nodded. "Sounds fine to me," she said, "I haven't flown much anyway, so this will help me get used to it."

"She's Muggleborn," Sofí explained when August and Sandra gave her an odd look again, "And didn' get a broom of her own 'til this past Christmas."

"So, how 'bout we get in the air already?" Sandra asked, looking around, "We are here tah play, right?"

Ready to play, all five of them mounted their brooms and kicked off the ground into the air, though they were careful not to fly more than a few feet up. They decided to take a few practice laps around the garden—which turned into a race that Richard had won, much to Bryt's surprise. With Richard's shy personality, Bryt had thought he would be reserved, staying back when it came to competition. Instead, Richard was the opposite. In fact, he was probably the most aggressive of them.

After the race, Bryt hovered on her broom towards the side of the garden, her camera in her hands, as she watched and took pictures of the others playing their pickup Quodpot game, hugging her broom between her knees to keep balance. Bryt had to admit that the game was interesting. They were playing boys against girls, using what looked like a tennis ball, trying to get it to hoops on opposite sides of the make-shift field. No one held the tennis ball for more than a few seconds before trying to pass it to their partner; either to make the pass or have the ball intercepted by someone on the other team. Bryt couldn't help comparing it to a game of Quidditch without the Bludgers or Snitch—thus no Beaters (which was Bryt's favorite position) or Seeker, and there seemed to be no Keeper at the goals, either. Plus, it seemed a rule that no one could hold onto the ball for a long period of time.

'_Definitely prefer Quidditch,'_ Bryt thought as she snapped a picture of Sandra making a goal. Of course, this was only a pick-up game, she had no idea how it would compare to a real game of Quodpot.

The rest of the morning was spent much the same way, with someone rotating out occasionally so that everyone would get a chance to play. It took a while for Bryt to get used to the fast pace and being able to catch the small tennis ball, then toss it back quickly. She had actually either missed catching or throwing the tennis ball, or end up dropping it once she did catch it, more than she had managed to make actual plays. Bryt made a note that she was definitely not cut out to be a Chaser.

They ended their game around noon when Wilsa came out, carrying a large tray of sandwiches over her head. Everyone was hot, sweaty, hungry, and very eager for a break as they landed. Bryt felt weird as her feet hit the ground and had solid earth under her feet again. It was much like the sensation she had after taking off her roller skates the one time she had went with Sofí(and learned she was horrible at the skill).

"Thanks, Wilsa," August said, taking the platter and putting it down on a small table in the garden.

Wilsa gave a nod before turning and hurrying back into the large plantation house. Bryt watched the worker elf until she was out of sight, then sat down at the table between Sofí and Sandra.

While they ate, they mainly shared stories about each other at school. Bryt learned that August, Sandra, and Richard all attended Salem with Sofí and Julio. Sandra and August were both in the same dorm as Sofí (Bellcross) though August was about to begin his final year while Sandra was going into her fourth, much like Bryt at Hogwarts. Richard, however, was in the same year and dorm as Julio, and was actually one of Julio's roommates.

In return, Bryt had to endure questions about how she was actually friends with the 'famous Harry Potter' and what he was like in real life. Bryt was getting annoyed over the questions about her friend, but answered them anyway. She kept insisting that Harry was completely normal guy, pointing out his trouble with classes and the detentions they managed to get into over the years(though she didn't go into _why_ they had gotten the detentions). Then Bryt explained how uncomfortable, and sometimes embarrassed, Harry became over being the center of attention. Sofí's friends, however, didn't seem to want to believe that Harry could be 'just a normal guy'.

It became too hot in the afternoon to continue playing Quodpot, so the group headed inside to play Exploding Snap, though Richard said he'd rather play chess and Sandra decided to play with him.

"They make a cute couple, don' they?" Sofí asked, smirking at August, who huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Richard. Bryt blinked, looking at Sofí.

"Those two are together?" she asked, remembering how Sofí was excited to see Richard and how she latched onto the boy the second she had seen him.

"Oh, yeah," Sofí said, laughing, "They started datin' a few weeks ago. Though Sandra had a crush on him fer years. August is mad 'cause he can't find any reason to hate the guy datin' his baby sis."

"I'll find somethin' eventually," August said. Sofí laughed, though Bryt was still looking between the couple at the chessboard and Sofí.

"What was with you practically attackin' him when we got here, then?" she asked.

Sofí laughed more and August rolled his eyes, tilting his head to the side as he did so.

"That boy is really easy to embarrass," Sofí said, a mischievous look on his face. Bryt shook her head, grinning. She should have realized that was Sofí's intentions. After all, Sofí usually didn't target quiet boys.

"Can we stop talkin' about my sister's boyfriend and jus' play Explodin' Snap already?" August asked, annoyed.

Bryt laughed, but dropped the subject so that they could begin their game.

**xxxxx**

Bryt was lying across her bed, putting her new pictures into a scrapbook. She and Sofí had returned from the Jonner Plantation barely an hour before at it got closer to dinner and it had begun raining(Mrs. García was paranoid about her family being out in the rain, so she rarely allowed anyone to stay out once the weather turned bad).

Once they were back, Bryt had taken a quick shower to wash away the sweat from a long day of playing in the heat and, after using a spell to dry her hair, had opened the window next to her bed to hear the rain better—plus fill the guest room with the smell of the rain.

Bryt heard the door open and she looked up to see Hermione come in. The girl had obviously been caught in the rain as her clothes were damp and her hair was, miraculously, lying flat—and looking much longer than Bryt had thought it was now that the curls had been flattened. Hermione herself looked near-exhausted, her face and shoulders turning a light pink from sunburn.

"Hey there," Bryt said, sitting up on her bed, "You have fun today?"

"Oh, loads!" Hermione said, grinning brightly as she headed over to her suitcase to get dry clothes, "Julio and I visited so many places. I could go on for ages—"

"Please don't," Bryt cut in, fighting back a laugh as she looked down at her scrapbook. She could see from the corner of her eye that Hermione made a face, but didn't say anything else on the subject.

"When do you plan to get your hair cut?" Hermione asked instead.

Bryt's hand froze over her scrapbook and she looked up at Hermione, blinking. She couldn't think of a more random question that Hermione could have asked her.

"Er...Tomorrow's gonna be crazy with it bein' Fourth of July, so the day after sometime. Why?"

"I think I'll get mine cut shorter, too."

Bryt stared at Hermione, waiting for her friend to tell her she was joking. Hermione seemed to understand Bryt's look because she continued on.

"I didn't realize how unbearable the temperature can be here," she said, "And my hair is much too thick to pull back and it won't still be heavy on my neck. I don't think I'll be able to take two months of this. I barely made it through today. Besides, my hair will grow back out eventually."

"You sure?" Bryt asked as Hermione finally found what she was looking for in her suitcase.

"Positive," Hermione replied, "Um...Where's the bathroom?"

"Room on the left right outside the door," Bryt said.

Hermione thanked Bryt and then left the guest room. Bryt turned back to her own scrapbook working, grinning as she tried to imagine Hermione with shorter hair.


	3. Celebrations

The Fourth of July in the wizarding world was a lot more exciting than Bryt could have imagined. They were on Drakescale, which was a beach lined by a row of small shops(the largest being the South Carolina branch of Gringotts), all of which seemed closed for the day. Hermione had been curious how they kept Muggles from wandering onto the beach, or seeing it when out at sea, and Julio explained that, to Muggles, the beach looked like a dangerous, rocky shore and it kept them away.

It was a good thing, too, because the celebration seemed to be a cross between a massive picnic and a beach party. Bryt, Sofí, Julio, and Hermione went on their own, as Mr. García was staying with his wife—Bryt had learned a few years before that Mrs. García wasn't completely comfortable with the wizarding world, which was the main reason the family lived as Muggle as possible.

The four did meet the Jonner siblings and Richard shortly after arriving and Sandra had seemed just as interested in Hermione's accent as she had with Bryt the day before. Eager to avoid where that conversation might go, Bryt changed the subject to the planned events and discovered the Jonners, Richard, and Sofí were eager for the games that would be scattered throughout the day.

The games themselves were odd, fascinating variations of active Muggle games. Bryt was confused by some, so preferred to stay on the sidelines, cheering on Sofí with Hermione and Julio. Though, when the last game planned before a break for a massive picnic lunch was announced, Bryt decided she'd join in. It seemed as if it would be simple—a broom race that would go out to a marker some distance out in the water, then back again. Even Julio was planning to join in the race.

"Is this a good idea?" Hermione asked as she looked out over the water, squinting to try and find the marker.

"Yeah, we have this race every year," August said, "We've never had problems before."

"Besides, there's a few out in boats 'round the edge of the racin' field," Julio pointed out, grinning at Hermione, "They make sure that if any Muggles accidentally get too close, that they're sent on their way, none the wiser. It don' happen often, though. We don' fly too high over the water. After all, half the point of the race is to knock everyone else off their brooms to better yer own chances."

Hermione didn't seem pleased with that bit of information. Still, she nodded, scanning the surface of the ocean in front of her. She knew from Quidditch at Hogwarts, and watching the games up until now, that the Wizarding games could often be competitive and violent. Hermione wished the group luck as they headed off for the starting point where about seven other witches and wizards, most of whom seemed older than Bryt and her friends, were waiting. Once they arrived, they were each given identical brooms, charmed to resist spells so no one could cheat by modifying the brooms and it would be on level ground, no one having the advantage from having a faster-model.

Bryt looked back over to Hermione and noticed Julio had lagged behind, saying something to her. Julio suddenly glanced up and Bryt ducked her head, pretending to check over her broom as she watched from the corner of her eye. Once Julio seemed sure that no one was watching, he leaned closer to Hermione and Bryt swore he had just kissed the girl. Her thought was confirmed as Julio turned to catch up to the others, leaving Hermione grinning and—as Bryt noticed even from this distance—blushing.

Bryt began smirking as Julio caught up, stopping next to her. She couldn't resist and leaned a little closer to her friend while he took his assigned broom.

"It's about time you two got together," she whispered, fighting back a laugh as Julio's face went a bright shade of red and he looked down at her.

"You...you saw?"

Bryt nodded. "Don't worry, I won't say anythin', I'm sure you don't need Sofí findin' out about this."

"God, no!" Julio said, looking frightened over the thought of what his sister would do with this little bit of information. Bryt couldn't hold back her laugh this time.

"What's so funny?"

Bryt and Julio looked up to see the others were staring at them, obviously attracted by Bryt's laugh. Julio went redder and Bryt cleared her throat, giving the first reasonable excuse that came to mind.

"Julio thinks he'll beat us all in the race," she said, resting her assigned broom over her shoulders.

"Oh, really?" Sandra got a smirk on her face, propping her free hand on her hip, "Why don' we..." Sandra paused, looking over to Sofí. "What's that Muggle sayin', Sofí? Stick our money in our mouth?"

"Put yer money where yer mouth is," Sofí corrected, grinning herself, "And a good idea. We all pitch in and winner takes all."

"I vote a Galleon each," August said.

Sofí seconded the vote, but no one else agreed.

"Too high for a race," Richard said quietly, "One Sickle each."

"That's more like it," Julio said, glancing at Bryt sideways and giving her a grateful look for distracting the conversation. Bryt grinned in response. After all, she had gotten quite good with coming up with quick excuses. She had to do it a lot the past school year when helping cover for Hermione, who had been dangerously overworking herself with the help of a Time Turner, a necklace that allowed her to go back in time and take several lessons at once.

With the bet set, everyone turned to the race announcer as he called for them to mount their brooms and take to the air. Bryt hovered on her own broom between Richard and a tall brunette she didn't recognize, focusing her gaze in front of her and leaning forward on her broom, itching for the whistle to blow.

Once it did, Bryt pushed forward, enjoying the wind whipping around her ponytail. It took her a couple of seconds to get used to the broom, as it wasn't a Nimbus model, but once she had a good handle on it, she was enjoying the race immensely, especially how rough and competitive it got. Bryt had nearly dodged several ram attempts before they had even reached the turn. Even then, there were attempts for people to knock each other off their brooms. Bryt had just dodged an attempt from the tall brunette when August suddenly came up from the side and rammed into Bryt. She smirked in response, managing to keep on her broom, and rammed him in return. August was caught off guard, not expecting the retaliation, and gave a yell as he fell sideways off the broom, landing in the water not too far below. Bryt glanced over her shoulder to see one of the boats Julio had mentioned was helping August out of the water, and another one nearby was helping out a racer Bryt didn't know.

Bryt turned her attention back in front of her, concentrating on finishing the race. After several more attempts from others to have her thrown from her broom—and her attempting to do the same to others—Bryt finally landed on the sandy shore, the fifth of eight people to actually finish the race. She was disappointed that she didn't win—or even come into the top three (the winner was the brunette woman, another person Bryt didn't recognize made second, while Richard got third place)—she was at least grateful she wasn't one of the racers who ended up being knocked from their brooms, unable to even finish the race. Aside from August, there had been four others—Julio, then three people that Bryt didn't know. Bryt looked over and noticed Hermione was near the edge of the shore, watching the boats coming in. Bryt figured she wanted to make sure Julio was okay.

"I'm never lettin' August live down that you knocked him from his broom."

Bryt turned to see Sandra grinning at her. Sofí was with her, and Richard was making his way over, the cheap, bronze-colored third-place medal hanging around his neck.

"He rammed me first, I was just returnin' the favor," Bryt said with a grin.

"He deserved it," Sandra said, laughing, "He was sure he'd be able to show yah up in the race."

"He underestimated how rough Bryt can get," Sofí said, "I guess he didn' believe the stories I told him 'bout her violent streak."

Bryt just grinned sweetly in response as Hermione arrived with a soaked August and Julio, though their clothes and hair seemed to already be drying in the summer heat.

"Congratulations, Richard," Julio said, "I guess everyone owes you a Sickle now."

Richard gave a small grin, nodding and holding out his hand as everyone paid up, Bryt having to dig down into her small backpack that Hermione had been hanging onto for her. Then, to Bryt's surprise, Richard pushed all seven of the Sickles into her hand.

"Er..._You_ won the race," she said, holding the money out, but Richard shook his head.

"Y'knocked August from his broom," he said with an amused grin, "I'd pay anythin' for somethin' like that."

Bryt grinned at the compliment, then put away the money when Richard, again, refused to take it.

"I'm guessin' it doesn't happen often," Bryt said, looking over to August, who had his arms crossed over his chest, but he was grinning. At least he was taking the incident good naturedly.

"Not really," August said, "But I've got a lot of respect for a girl who can hold her own. Doesn't hurt when she's good-looking, either."

Bryt crossed her arms over her chest, watching August, her gaze narrowing slightly has she noticed the boy looking her up and down slowly.

"I have a boyfriend," Bryt said, using a tone that made it clear she wasn't going to welcome any more attempts to flirt.

August gave a sigh, shrugging in an 'oh well, I tried' way and said "Lucky guy."

Richard, Julio, and Hermione shook their heads in such perfect time with each other that the others broke into fits of laughter, leaving the three confused. No one bothered to explain what had been so funny.

Not too long after, the group was sitting on at one of the tables that had been set up, enjoying the barbequed ribs, corn on the cob, and baked beans that had been prepared. Bryt was glad that this was one of the traditional meals that spanned from both Muggles and Wizards, as she had often loved eating barbeque in the past. It was also a chance to poke a bit of fun at Hermione, who seemed unsure about the mess that eating ribs caused.

As the rest of the afternoon wore on, Bryt sat with Hermione and Julio to watch the various competitions, and occasionally joining in a few, though she never won any until a partnered competition where Sofí insisted on using Bryt as her partner. The competition itself involved one person—in their duo, Sofí—to be blindfolded while carrying their partner on their back through an obstacle course. The partner being carried had to give commands, though they weren't allowed to speak lowly. They had to shout, so the blindfolded person not only had their person's commands, but hearing commands from others as well. Not to mention the race was made even harder as each person's course crossed over the others at various points.

Now, though, the race was over and day had given way to night. Bryt was stretched out on her back, the medal she won from the race hanging around her neck as she watched the colorful display of fireworks exploding overhead. Julio had told Bryt and Hermione that the show wouldn't be a normal Wizarding fireworks show, as it would attract far too much attention from Muggles if they went too extravagant with their show. Bryt didn't mind, though. She enjoyed the show, enjoyed lying back on the blanket with her friends after a long, eventful day of celebration. All in all, this year had been the best Forth of July Bryt ever had.

**-----  
**

**A/N:** Once again, sorry about the hiatus. A mixture of several different things at once (most of which linked to the holidays) kept me pretty busy. I do plan to, this time, finally get back into swing and not go on another long hiatus. After all, I already have most of the next chapter done to go up on Friday.

On a side note, I hope everyone had a great New Year, and a very late Merry Christmas to those who celebrate.


	4. KAE Results and Birthday News

The next few weeks passed by fairly quickly, events falling into a pattern for Bryt, Hermione, Sofí, and Julio. Julio usually headed out with Hermione to see one of the sights around the city, often only staying in one place for the entire day. Bryt sometimes went with them, usually on the days where she didn't feel much like heading out with Sofí to play games of Quodpot with the Jonners and Richard. On days when it rained(which was quite often in Charleston), they stayed at home, mostly in the guest room as Julio and Sofí's bedrooms were too small for all of them to be in them together(especially with Julio's claustrophobia).

Bryt had taken to borrowing Sofí's cauldron to practice potion-making and experimenting with the instructions, finding the best ways to get a potion to come out—and these often differed from the book-written instructions, which Hermione found annoying as she was always very 'by-the-book'. Aside from experimenting with potions, Bryt often sat with her friends, playing games and talking about the school days, especially the adventures that Bryt and Hermione had gotten into at Hogwarts, and more specifically, discovering the innocence of Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, not too long before.

Bryt had gotten Harry's permission to tell Sofí and Julio the truth about Sirius before coming. She had told Harry that the Garcías were like her family and keeping the truth from them would be like if she had tried to keep the truth of Sirius's innocence from Harry. Harry had agreed, saying that he trusted Bryt's judgment, and, from his short meeting the year before, that he actually liked Bryt's State-side friends.

Though Bryt and Hermione told Sofí and Julio the entire story of what happened—from how Ron's rat turned out to be Peter Pettigrew(who was also known as Wormtail) to the dementors, even about Hermione's time-turner and going back to save both Buckbeak and Sirius—they left out the one point that still haunted Bryt.

She could have stopped Wormtail from escaping. She could have grabbed the man who had caused Sirius to lose twelve years of his life to Azkaban prison. Instead, Bryt froze up and allowed Wormtail to run within inches from her, escaping into the night and causing Sirius to have to stay in hiding. Hermione was the only one who knew about this bit of information and she had, thankfully, agreed to keep it a secret—possibly in return for all the secrets Bryt had kept for her throughout that school year.

When mid-July approached, it meant that Sofí's birthday (which was on the 18th) was coming closer as well. A couple of days before Sofí was turning fifteen, the four teens were sitting around the kitchen table for breakfast (after another early morning wake up call from Sofí) while the girl talked about the Quodpot game that they were going to see for her birthday outing.

Bryt had kept her attention on her cereal, though occasionally glancing to the rain outside(which meant another day of board games and potions experimenting), ignoring the bangs in her face. They were too short to pin behind her ears anymore (as when Bryt got her hair cut, she had gone for very short, boyish style that Sofí said was called a 'pixie cut') and it was too hot to tie her scarf headband around her head every day.

"Are yah really gonna insist I go along?" Julio asked with a sigh, "I have enough of sittin' through Quodpot games at school, with friends usually on the team...Why should I suffer through one durin' my summer vacation?"

"'Cause it's my birthday, that's why," Sofí said, sounding much like a five-year-old going 'because I said so'.

"I don' make you come along when I go to Quidditch matches with Dad."

"It's never been yer birthday. Besides, Hermione's gonna come. Right, Hermione?"

"What?" Hermione looked up quickly, obviously hoping not to be brought into the conversation. She had jerked up her head so fast that her curly hair (which had recently been shortened to her chin in a style that Bryt thought looked very attractive on the girl) bounced slightly.

"Sofí was sayin' you were gonna come with us to the Quodpot match on her birthday," Bryt said, "It'll be fun for all of us to head out somewhere together."

"Besides, Astrid's comin'—" Sofí started, but cut off as Julio choked on his orange juice. Hermione suddenly turned in her chair, giving Julio a concerned look as she patted his back and Bryt gave Julio a strange look, becoming even more confused over Julio's reply once he caught his breath.

"Fine, I'll go," he said, though he still didn't sound as if he wanted to, as he looked from Hermione next to him to Bryt sitting across from him, a wary look on his face. He obviously guessed to Bryt's confusion since he continued. "Trust me, Astrid is...Well, it's jus' best if there's _someone_ there to keep her in line." Julio looked at his sister with an expression that showed he obviously thought Sofí wasn't qualified for the job.

Bryt was about to ask how bad could Astrid really be, especially when there was Sofí to judge from, but an owl swooped in the window, landing on the table in front of Julio. Bryt blinked, wondering who was sending a letter. After all, their daily copy of _The Observer Chronicle_ had already been delivered earlier that morning.

"My KAE results," Julio said nervously as he studied the envelope in his hand.

"Go on, open it," Hermione said encouragingly, "I'm sure you did great."

Julio just stared at the letter, then suddenly thrust it over to Hermione. "You open it," he said and Sofí laughed.

Bryt dropped her spoon into her now-empty bowl and moved around the table to look over Hermione's shoulder as she pulled open he envelope, pulling out a piece of parchment. Julio sat still, watching Hermione closely. Bryt noticed he actually looked a little green in the face.

'_Wonder if Hermione'll be that bad in a few years when we get our OWL results,'_ Bryt thought. Of course, Bryt knew how much Julio wanted to be a Healer. Being able to get that job rode heavily on his scores in school. Even though Bryt knew that Julio would be fine—after all, he was one of the smartest people Bryt knew (the other being Hermione)—but it didn't mean the boy didn't worry excessively over his grades. Again, much like Hermione tended to do.

Hermione unfolded the letter, smoothing it out, grinning as she read over it, then showed it to Julio. Bryt took the chance to glance between them at the paper herself.

_KNOWLEDGE APPLICATION EXAMINATIONS_

_Scoring:_

_1 – Horrible_

_2 – Poor_

_3 – Average_

_4 – Great_

_5 – Extraordinary_

_Students are required to have at least a 3 in a class to pass to Career Application Placement Examinations Level._

_Julio Daniel García has received ten of ten attempted KAE subjects:_

_Ancient Runes – 5_

_Arithmancy – 5_

_Astronomy – 5_

_Charms – 5_

_Dark Arts Defense – 5_

_Herbology – 5_

_Magical Creature Care – 5_

_Magical History – 5_

_Potions – 5_

_Transfiguration – 5_

Bryt grinned and congratulated Julio as the boy looked relieved, then thrilled, as if he were just told that he had won a million Galleons.

"I made it!" Julio said breathlessly, "I'm a step closer to being a Healer!"

"Yeah, y'jus' got two years of even harder classes and have t'pass yer CAPEs now," Sofí said, smirking.

Julio's thrilled look was suddenly replaced with the sickening one he had before he learned his KAE scores.

"You'll be fine," Bryt and Hermione chorused, watching the boy carefully as he looked as if he might be sick.

"Sofí Samantha, _No embrome tu hermano_."

All four looked up to the man who came out of the downstairs bathroom, wearing a tee shirt and slacks, his short hair damp from a morning shower. Mr. García was a tall man with a slightly slender build, looking so incredibly like his son that Bryt was sure he was what Julio would look like within the next ten years. He was also the type who seemed to find it impossible to lose an accent, as his Spanish accent was strong enough to make people believe that he had just arrived in the States the day before, not twenty years ago.

"_Lo siento_, Dad," Sofí replied, playing with one of the twin braids her hair was in. Bryt knew that if Mr. García scolded his children in Spanish, it was his way of saying 'drop it now or you'll be grounded for a month'.

Mr. García came around the table, picking up Julio's KAE results, along with a second letter that none of the group had even noticed.

"You got a letter from Salem, too," he said, turning the letter over and Bryt noticed the waxy seal of a crescent moon with a star between its points—the Salem Witch's Institute crest.

"That should be yer Vice Secretary campaign results," Sofí pointed out.

"_Sí_," Mr. García grinned slightly as he weighed the letter in his hand, "And it feels as if something's in here."

Julio snatched the letter from his father eagerly; much more confident in opening this letter than he had been with his KAEs results. He shook the envelope, allowing a pin to fall into his hand: a brass fox in mid-leap, with a 'VS' hanging from its mouth. Bryt knew that a fox was the mascot for Julio's dorm, and she guessed the 'VS' was supposed to stand for 'Vice Secretary'.

"Yes, this is great!" Julio said excitedly, not even bothering to read the letter that came as he held up his pin, "Vice Secretary..."

"_Felicidades__,_" Mr. García said, grinning at his son, "I have some better news for you. I was saving this for closer to time, as it's your very, very early Coming of Age birthday gift, but in light of all his good news, I think I'll tell you now."

The man now had their full attention, especially Julio, who was staring at his father with a confused look, obviously wondering what type of birthday gift he was getting that would require it being given nearly half a year early. Though Mr. García seemed pleased with himself, obviously enjoying prolonging the suspense of the reveal. Sofí was the only one not seeming eager to learn what was going on, and Bryt wondered if she already knew what Julio was getting.

"Well, what is it?" Julio finally asked when his father still hadn't said anything.

"_Paciencia, paciencia_," Mr. García said with a laugh, "As I'm sure all of you know, the Quidditch World Cup is being held at the end of the summer..."

Bryt's eyes widened as she got a pretty good guess a where Mr. García was going. Out of excitement, Bryt had started bouncing in place, a grin spreading over her face.

"You got tickets to the World Cup?" Julio seemed more excited about this news than he had about making straight-fives or becoming Vice Secretary of his school dorm, "Seriously? _Tickets to the Quidditch World Cup_?"

Mr. García grinned. "Four tickets, actually," he said, "For me, you, Hermione, and Bryt—if you two wish to go, of course." Mr. García said, looking between the two girls. Bryt nodded excitedly and even Hermione, who wasn't as into sports as the others, seemed eager to go. Mr. García grinned, then looked back at Julio. "It gets better. I called in a huge favor to a friend of mine who plays Quidditch professionally."

Bryt couldn't understand. What could possibly be better than getting to go see the Quidditch World Cup? She couldn't wait to let Ron know—his father was working on getting tickets as well, and it would be nice to let him know that Bryt and Hermione already had tickets.

"He managed to get them for me," Mr. García continued when no one had said anything, "I've got four tickets—for the Top Box. Best seats in the entire stadium."

"You're jokin'!" Julio and Bryt exclaimed together.

Mr. García shook his head, obviously amused with the reaction.

"Oh man, the guys're gonna be so jealous!" Bryt said, not only referring to Harry and Ron, but also to her boyfriend, Terry, "What time is it, anyway?"

"Ten-'til-eight," Sofí said, twirling her spoon in her milk, smirking at the others.

"Good, it'll be after noon there..." Bryt ran for the phone, but stopped suddenly as she picked up the receiver, remembering where she was, "Er...Can I call?"

"_Sí_, but don't take too long," Mr. García said, "I'm heading into the shop, you four behave yourselves here. I don't want me or Samantha to get home from work and find the place destroyed."

Mr. García went past Bryt with that, going to the fireplace and Flooing to his shop in Drakescale Shore.

"Put the phone on speaker, I want to hear his reaction," Sofí said and Bryt headed to the table with the phone, starting to dial the number Ron gave her for the phone that Mr. Weasley had managed to get to work at the Burrow.

"Why aren't you coming to the World Cup, Sofí?" Hermione asked.

"Because Quidditch is the most borin' thing in the universe," Sofí said simply.

"Funny, I think the same of Quodpot and still have to go with _you_," Julio shot back.

"Hello? Who's this?" Mr. Weasley's voice came over the receiver, cutting off any response Sofí was about to give her brother.

"Hi, Mr. Weasley, it's Bryt," Bryt said, "Um...Is Ron there? Can I talk to him?"

"Bryt!" Mr. Weasley said happily, "You're in the States, aren't you? Wonderful contraptions, these telephones...I'm talking to you now as if you were right here with me. Just like when I speak to your father when I have the chance. Such a delightful man. Just the other day—"

"Mr. Weasley!" Bryt cut in as Sofí and Hermione broke into giggles, "I'm on a bit of a time limit, calls overseas cost a lot of money, can I please talk to Ron?"

"Oh, yes, hold on..."

There was silence for a while before Bryt heard the phone being picked up again.

"Bryt?" Ron's voice came over the line after a second.

"Yep," Bryt said, "I'm sittin' with Hermione, Sofí, and Julio."

"Hey, Ron," Sofí said brightly.

"Er, hi," Ron said unsurely(he had never been that comfortable around Sofí), then was obviously talking to Bryt again, "I got your letter, Bryt, just yesterday, with the picture from that race you were in. Honestly, I had always thought you were joking about that scar on your leg."

Bryt laughed, remembering how she and Hermione had written letters together after the Fourth of July, to send to Harry and Ron, and had included some pictures they had taken. Ron was most likely referring to the picture Sofí and Bryt had posed for after they won the team-course, while Bryt had still been latched onto her friend's back. And the scar being one Bryt got when she was nine and had jumped out of a tree into too-shallow water, breaking her leg.

"What were y'doin' starin' at Bryt's legs, Ron?" Sofí suddenly asked. Bryt rolled her eyes as Hermione and Julio glared at the girl.

"Ignore her, Ron," Bryt said, "Wait 'til you hear this, you're gonna be so jealous!"

Bryt expected a reply quickly, but she was only met with silence on the other end.

"...Ron?" Bryt asked a little loudly.

"Did the call get cut off?" Hermione asked.

"No, there's no dial tone," Julio replied.

"Ron? You still there?" Bryt asked.

"I think I broke him," Sofí giggled.

"Ron, this call is on a time limit."

"Huh?" Ron finally spoke up again and Bryt rolled her eyes.

"I said this call's on a time limit. I need to tell you this quickly. And as I said, you're gonna be so jealous."

"Really?" Ron asked, an odd relief in his tone, "Why would I ever be jealous of you?"

"Because I'm gonna be in the Top Box for the Quidditch World Cup."

"You're _what_?" Ron asked and Bryt laughed, easily picturing his face turning literally green with envy.

"Julio's early birthday present," Hermione explained, "Mr. García is taking us to the World Cup. Didn't you say your father was getting tickets, too?"

"Yes, but...Damn, he'd better get Top Box tickets, or I'm going to kill you for being there without me."

Sofí laughed, but Bryt suddenly felt a bit guilty as she remembered how poor the Weasleys were. They had enough to get by, but Bryt had no clue how Mr. Weasley was going to be able to get even regular-seat tickets to the Quidditch World Cup, and she was positive he'd never be able to afford for even one seat in the Top Box. And Mr. García had said that he had called in a huge favor to get theirs, Bryt couldn't go and ask him to try and get more for Ron and Harry.

"Maybe he'll work somethin' out," Bryt said, suddenly wishing she hadn't brought up the Top Box seats, "Anyway, I need to get off, callin' overseas is expensive. Hermione and I'll see you at the end of the summer, okay?"

"Yeah," Ron said, "I'll see you then, and I'll let Harry know what you told me."

"Thanks, bye, Ron."

"Bye, Ron," Hermione added.

Ron gave his own goodbye and the line went dead. Bryt hung up, then decided to head up stairs and work on her current potion experiment, still mentally kicking herself for wanting to tease Ron about the Top Box tickets.

'_At least he didn't seem to take it badly,'_ Bryt thought. After all, Ron had seemed pretty normal over the phone. Usually when he got annoyed over something, he didn't bother to hide it, _'And who knows? Maybe Mr. Weasley has a friend who can get him Top Box tickets, too.'_

With the last thought, Bryt slipped into the guest room and went over to Sofí's cauldron at the foot of the bed Bryt had been sleeping in the past few weeks.


	5. Astrid Knull

Bryt was leaned forward on her bed in the García guest room, using the nightstand between her and Hermione's bed as a table while she wrote a long letter to Terry. The more she wrote, the more she found herself longing for the end of summer she could see her boyfriend again, to spend her afternoons in the library for homework dates or wondering around the school grounds when the weather was good. Or to find an empty classroom for quality snogging time.

Bryt hummed an off-key tune as she began describing the Quodpot match she had went to the day before. Though Bryt preferred Quidditch, she could understand why Sofí enjoyed the game. It was played on a field about half the length of a Quidditch field and just as wide as one, with a large cauldron held up on both ends and eleven players per team. Like the practice games Bryt had joined in, no player held onto the ball (which Sofí said was a 'Quod') for more than a few seconds, constantly passing it back and forth, trying to get their ball to the end of the field to score, which seemed quite hard despite the fact that there were no goalies. Unlike the practice games, however, the ball had a chance of exploding at any moment, and if a player was holding the ball at the time, they were removed from the game. This would go on until every person only one person was left on one of the teams (as they could no longer pass to team members) then the team with the highest score would win.

_It's basically a game of Muggle basketball mixed with the kid game Hot Potato, played on brooms with the chance of the ball blowing up in your face thrown in for good measure. No wonder Sofí likes it, the game has explosions._

Bryt paused at that, tapping her eraser of her pencil on her paper, trying to think of what to write next. Already at two sheets of paper, Bryt couldn't find anything else to tell Terry about, so put her pencil back to the paper to finish up her letter.

_Speaking of sports, I'm going to be back earlier than expected. Mr. García got tickets to the Quidditch World Cup! We're leaving by airplane on August 17th, so we'll be staying at the camp for about a week before the match actually takes place. I'll be sure to tell you all about it if you don't get to go yourself. Don't worry. I'll take great notes for you._

_Love,_

_Bryt_

Bryt put down her pencil, grinning as she sat up, stretching after sitting hunched over for so long. She flexed her hand a little, then grabbed an envelope that she had already addressed to Terry, and folded her letter, sealing it to send off at the post office in Drakescale Shore.

The door opened then and Bryt looked up to see a lanky black girl with short hair in a natural afro and large glasses that seemed to take up half of her narrow face—Astrid Knull, Sofí's friend at Salem who would be staying with the Garcías for the rest of the summer.

Bryt and Hermione had learned very quickly at the Quodpot game what Julio had meant by Astrid being unique, and why the girl was such good friend with Sofí. Always dressed in a style that was a bizarre cross between Victorian and hippie fashions, Astrid stood out in any crowd and had a personality to match. Though not as hyperactive as Sofí, the girl had her own activeness and she also seemed to have absolutely no filter between her brain and mouth. She also had some strange obsession with how others look, especially Bryt. She was constantly complimenting Bryt's boyish hair, and often suggesting the 'right clothes' that could 'take advantage of Bryt's natural curves'. It had been making Bryt increasingly uncomfortable and giving her a rare self-consciousness on her short, stocky build. Of course, Bryt wasn't massively overweight, but she was definitely more filled-out than most girls her age.

"Er...You need somethin', Astrid?" Bryt asked.

The lanky girl turned quickly, her tie-dye flowing skirt bellowing out and twisted around her legs slightly.

"Bryt, hi!" Astrid said with enthusiasm that mirrored when she had ran up and nearly knocked Sofí to the ground in a tackle when they met at the Quodpot match.

"Uh...hi," Bryt said unsurely. Usually she was used to eccentricities, but there was something about the way Astrid was always over-excited when Bryt came around and constantly complementing her that made Bryt increasingly uncomfortable.

"Sofí's wondering if you're still coming to Drakescale," Astrid said with a grin, folding her hands behind her back, "We're all waiting downstairs."

"Shoot, hold on," Bryt said. In her writing, she had completely forgotten their planned trip to Drakescale Shore to get Harry a birthday present and send off the home-made cake that Sofí had made the day before(and was now waiting at Quid-And-Quod with Mr. García for them to pick up). "I got caught up writin' my letter, I'm done now."

"Ooh, letter to your boyfriend?" Astrid asked as Bryt grabbed her miniature backpack, storing her letter in it, her face feeling warm.

"Yeah, I was answerin' a letter he sent," she said, digging her sneakers from under the bed and starting to pull them on. Once ready, she started out of the room and Astrid followed uncomfortably close behind.

"You're really lucky, you know that?"

"Huh?" Bryt glanced over her shoulder slightly as she reached the stairs.

"You and your boyfriend. You're lucky."

Bryt flushed again, ducking her head as she started down the stairs. "Yeah, I know. Terry's great," she said, grinning at the thought of her boyfriend, but also uncomfortable with talking about him with Astrid. There was something about the tone in Astrid's voice that put Bryt off slightly.

When the two girls came downstairs, Sofí, Julio, and Hermione were already waiting. Julio looked up and studied Bryt's flushed face then, oddly, looked behind Bryt at Astrid and got a strange look on his face.

"Ready t'get goin'?" Sofí asked, practically bouncing towards the fireplace.

"Yeah," Astrid said, brightly, "We have good timing. Bryt had just finished her letter."

"More mushyness to Ter?" Sofí smirked and Bryt rolled her eyes.

"He'd kill me if I tried to be mushy."

"But you _are_ mushy," Astrid said with a laugh, poking at Bryt's side.

"Will you stop that?" Bryt snapped without meaning to, jerking away from the lanky girl.

Astrid frowned, pushing her large glasses back up to the bridge of her nose. Bryt suddenly felt guilty for lashing out and started rubbing her arm slightly.

"Oh...sorry..." she mumbled.

Astrid shrugged. "I have been bugging you, it's my fault," she said, suddenly grinning again, "Come on, let's get going. I'm craving one of the Cracked Crown Café's banana splits."

Astrid headed past Bryt towards where Sofí was already getting out the jar of Floo Powder.

"Are you okay?"

Bryt looked up at the whisper and realized Hermione had come up next to her, looking at her with a concerned expression.

"I mean, it's not like you to lash out at someone without a reason."

"I'm fine," Bryt whispered back, "It's just...I don't like the attention Astrid's been givin' me. It's almost creepy."

"Girls, coming?"

Bryt and Hermione looked up to see Sofí and Julio was already gone and Astrid was waiting by the fireplace. Both girls nodded and headed over, each taking their turn with a handful of Floo Powder and tossing it into the fire, stepping in, and announcing "Drakescale Shore".

One uncomfortable experience later, Bryt was in the large, spacious tavern known as The Knitted Cap. Sofí and Julio were waiting already and a second later, Hermione arrived. Astrid came a few seconds after that.

"So, where should we go first?" Julio asked.

"Well, _you're_ taking me and Sofí to the Cracked Crown," Astrid said matter-of-factly, bouncing forward and grabbing Julio by the arm, "Bryt said she and Hermione need to get their friend a birthday present."

Hermione went tense, giving Astrid a look that Bryt would have laughed at if she weren't so caught off-guard by Astrid's actions.

"Bryt and I don't know our way around," Hermione said simply.

"Merlin, it's a line of stores!" Astrid said, "You can't get lost!"

"I'll go with yah," Sofí said, "I know where y'all can go."

"Great! It's settled!" Before anyone could protest, Astrid had practically dragged Julio from the tavern, the boy glaring at her the entire time as he tried to pull away.

Bryt had no idea what to think of Astrid's actions, but knew that she shouldn't have been surprised by it—even though she still was—considering how the girl acted around Bryt since meeting the day before.

"Oh, don' worry 'bout her, Hermione," Sofí said and Bryt turned, heading off to catch up wither her friends who were heading for the door themselves, "Astrid ain't gonna steal Julio from yah."

"What?" Hermione stopped right outside the door, her face going a very bright shade of red.

Sofí smirked at Hermione, propping her hands on her hips and pushing her weight to one foot.

"D'yah really think I wouldn' notice?" she asked, "C'mern, Julio's my big brother."

"I really have no idea what you're talking about," Hermione protested, starting down the street, still red-faced as she looked through the crowd. Bryt guessed she was looking for Julio and Astrid.

"Either way, you ain't gotta worry about Astrid," Sofí said as she and Bryt fell in on either side of Hermione.

"Why?" Bryt asked curiously, then suddenly remembering Astrid's comment about Bryt and Terry, "Does she have a boyfriend?"

Sofí suddenly laughed, which caught both Bryt and Hermione off-guard.

"No, boys aren' exactly Astrid's type," Sofí said.

Hermione and Bryt stopped simultaneously. Bryt was confused at first, but then it sunk in what Sofí had meant and Bryt tensed up suddenly feeling a lot more uncomfortable about all the attention that Astrid had been giving her. Bryt glanced over at Hermione, who was staring back at her with the same awkward look.

"So..." Bryt started, looking back at Sofí, who had turned to look at them, unsure what to think about what she was just told, "Astrid's...er..."

"Oh damn it!" Sofí snapped as if suddenly realizing something, attracting attention from some passer-by. She ignored them, but dropped her voice anyway. "Don' tell her I said, okay? Julio and I're the only ones who know. Astrid hasn' even told her parents."

Bryt blinked, confused over the seriousness Sofí suddenly had. The only time she had seen Sofí serious was, in fact, earlier that summer when Hermione and Bryt had told her and Julio the truth about Sirius Black and made them promise not to say a word to anyone else.

"We'll keep it quiet," Bryt said and Hermione nodded in agreement, which caused Sofí to look relieved.

"Thanks," she said, "Astrid doesn' like others knowin' about it. She's afraid it'll get back t'her parents."

"They wouldn't approve?" Hermione asked.

"Astrid's from a pureblood family. They expect Astrid t'get married and carry on the 'pure bloodline'. Someone like her probably would be just as disliked as any of us—you two for bein' Muggleborn and for Julio and I bein' pretty much Muggleborn since we only have one wizard in our bloodline."

Bryt nodded, trying to imagine what it had to be like if she had to hide something so big from her parents as she followed Sofí towards a shop. She couldn't begin to imagine how hard it had to be. It would be like Bryt trying to hide the fact that she was a witch, hiding practically who she was as a person.

Bryt suddenly remembered Astrid telling her that she was lucky to be with Terry and she had a whole new thought on the meaning. She had a feeling Astrid didn't get to date much, if at all, at Salem, for fear it could get out and somehow get back to her parents.

"Er, Sofí?" Bryt asked slowly, thinking of how much Astrid was around her lately, "Astrid doesn't...I mean, she's been around me a lot, and it's really unnervin'...She doesn't..."

"Oh, she does," Sofí said with a sigh, which only made Bryt feel even more uncomfortable, "I'll talk to her about it later, maybe she'll back off some. Anyway, c'mern. This is Dad's store, I'm sure y'two can find somethin' fer Harry here. And y'can pick up the cake Dad's been holdin' fer yah."

Still uncomfortable about the revelation about Astrid, Bryt headed into the store that had "Quid-And-Quod" on a sign over the door. Bryt looked around, seeing the store looked much like the Quality Quidditch Supplies shop in Diagon Alley, but this store also held a lot of Quodpot equipment—including specialized robes that were charmed to be fireproof, to protect against the exploding Quods.

"_Hola chicas_," Mr. García greeted as they came in, turning from the group of boys in a corner, "Where's Astrid and Julio?"

"Gettin' ice cream," Sofí said, "I'm showin' Bryt and Hermione 'round so they can shop fer Harry's birthday present."

Mr. García nodded, told them to take their time, and went back to helping the other customers. Bryt turned to the items in the shop, quickly distracting herself with shopping. After over an hour, Bryt and Hermione finally settled on buying Harry a book on the most popular Quidditch matches in history. Bryt also bought a book on Quodpot to send to Terry, hoping he would enjoy it since he seemed to love any type of competitive sport.

"Y'were only supposed t'buy fer Harry," Sofí pointed out.

"Terry's my boyfriend. I can buy him somethin' if I want," Bryt said with a smirk.

"Probably makin' up fer not gettin' to see him fer a while."

Bryt flushed and ignored Sofí's comment as Astrid and Julio came up, Julio looking relieved to see them and went straight to Hermione.

"Hold her hand all yah want," Sofí said, smirking at her brother, "Y'don' gotta hide it in front of me."

Julio glared at his sister and Bryt decided to speak up before he said anything.

"Can't we just head to the post office and send this off?" Bryt asked, motioning to the two books and the home-made cake she was carrying.

"Sure, c'mern," Julio said, starting down the street. Sofí started bouncing and made an odd noise that sounded like a squeal. Curious, Bryt looked ahead and noticed Hermione had caught up to Julio and had grabbed onto his hand as they walked.

Bryt grinned herself, knowing Sofí was probably thinking of all the teasing she could bring up now and Bryt wondered just how much Harry and Ron would tease Hermione if they found out.

'_Or just Harry anyway,'_ Bryt thought, remembering the hostility Ron had brought up with the fact Bryt had a boyfriend.

After sending of their letters and gifts, the five teenagers headed back outside, moving from shop to shop, splitting off only one other time as Sofí, Astrid, and Bryt decided to head down to the beach while Julio and Hermione went to visit Ravenherst's, the bookstore in Drakescale Shore.

Unfortunately, as rain began to move in, the group had to head back to the García home, soaked from the downpour. Once all of them had changed into dry clothes, however, they spent the rest of the afternoon playing a board game, though they had to constantly explain the rules as Astrid had no clue how to play. Though Bryt had noticed that Astrid was keeping her distance from Bryt now. Bryt guessed that Sofí must have talked to her while Bryt had been taking a shower before changing into dry clothes.

'_I really _am_ lucky,'_ Bryt thought, running her hand through her hair as Astrid asked, for the fifth time, about one part of the game, _'Astrid has to hide somethin' so huge from everyone...I can't imagine what that has to be like...'_

**-----**

**A/N:** Sorry this chapter is a little weak, I've had a lot of trouble getting through it and it wasn't intentionally meant to focus so much on Astrid, as she's just a minor character. This chapter just took off on its own.


	6. School News

"Brychelle! Hey, Brychelle! Get down here!"

Bryt gave a groan, yanking the covers tighter over her head. For the first time that summer, Sofí hadn't woken her up before eight in the morning and all she wanted was to enjoy it.

"Bryttanie Michelle Watkins! Get yer lazy ass down here now or I'm readin' yer letters to everyone!"

"Sofí Samantha García, don' you dare!"

Bryt sighed, peeking out from under the covers to the alarm clock between her and Hermione's beds. 8:37 a.m. Bryt shoved away the covers, sitting up and looking over her shoulder out the window to see it was cloudy, but it didn't seem to be raining.

"Brychelle!"

"I'm comin', shut up already!" Bryt called out, guessing that Mr. and Mrs. García were both at work, as there was no shouting for everyone to stop shouting across the house.

Now that Bryt's hair was so short and took less time to untangle, she only needed a couple minutes to get ready before heading downstairs, where Sofí, Julio, Hermione, and Astrid were already waiting. The latter three were sitting at the table while Sofí was sitting on the counter.

"Our school lists came," Hermione said, "Only one new book this year—_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four_."

"But y'also got 'one set of formal dress robes'," Sofí said, reading off an open letter in her hand, "On the list."

"Is that _my_ school list?" Bryt asked, staring at the letter Sofí had opened.

"Yep, figured y'wouldn' mind me openin' this one," she said, then held up a still-sealed letter, "Was abou'ta help with this one, too."

Bryt raised an eyebrow, then widened as she realized who the letter had to be from. After all, she had gotten a letter from Harry the day before to thank her and Hermione for the birthday present and cake, then she had gotten a letter from Ron not long before that. That left only one other person to be receiving a letter from, since her family called when they wanted to say something.

"Sofí, don't you _dare_!" Bryt snapped, moving to grab the letter, but Sofí laughed and jumped away, holding the letter over her head.

Bryt glared, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew it'd be pointless to try and reach for the letter. After all, Sofí was nearly six feet tall naturally, so she was over six feet with the help of her platform boots she always wore, and Bryt didn't even reach five feet. There was no way she'd be able to get the letter. Bryt glanced beside her and was just about to grab a chair to climb onto when Julio came over and snatched the letter from his sister.

"Here," he said, handing the letter to Bryt, who took it with a quick thanks as Julio turned to his sister, "Honestly, you need to grow up."

"C'mern, it was only a little fun," Sofí said, grinning.

Bryt rolled her eyes, sitting down next to Hermione at the table and shoved her letter from Terry into her pocket. She was itching to read it, but she knew better than to open it now. Sofí would just take the opportunity to try and read the letter over her shoulder.

"I should call Mom," Bryt said, "Ask if she can get my book for me...Or at least get her to ask Dad if he'll ask Mr. Weasley to pick one up when they go to Diagon Alley. I doubt we'll have time after the World Cup to get school supplies."

"Actually, Ravenherst's carries _The Standard Book of Spells_," Julio said, "We use 'em at Salem."

"And we can get yer dress robes at Carlev's Robes for Special Occasions," Sofí said, sitting down across from Bryt.

"Dress robes?" Bryt asked.

"Sofí mentioned it was on your list," Astrid spoke up for the first time. Bryt looked over and noticed she had been so quiet because she had been focusing on finishing her bowl of oatmeal, "I thought Sofí said Hogwarts didn't have any special occasions that needed dress robes."

"It doesn't," Hermione said, "We've never had dress robes on our list before."

"Wonder what we need them for," Bryt said, checking her watch, "I should still call home, though. Mom'll want to know I got my list, even if she doesn't need to go get anythin' for me."

Bryt reached over and took the piece of toast off of Sofí's plate, then stood up, going to the phone. She intended to make the call quick, so she was sure that Mr. and Mrs. García wouldn't mind the call.

"Watkins residence," Amelia Watkins answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Mom," Bryt said, "I just wanted to let you know I got my school list, but Julio says I can get what I need here."

"Are you sure? I won't mind getting your supplies," Mrs. Watkins said, "I have to go to Diagon Alley anyway."

"What? You have to go to Diagon Alley? What for?" Bryt asked, but the answer came to her the second she finished asking.

"Turns out your brothers are wizards themselves," Mrs. Watkins said, "I'm taking them to get their things. You're lucky you aren't here. The two of them won't stop talking about actually getting to go to Hogwarts themselves. Here I thought they couldn't have been more obsessed with your world..."

Bryt had been grinning more and more as her mother had talked. Her brothers would be starting Hogwarts with her. Not just one of them, but both of them. She had been hoping—ever since Terry had first brought it up right before the Christmas holidays—that Mike and Drew would be Muggleborns, as she was.

"Are you serious?" Bryt asked, still grinning, "They're both goin'?"

"Yes, both of them," Mrs. Watkins replied, "So I won't mind getting your supplies at all."

"No, I can get them here," Bryt answered, "But thanks anyway. Tell Mike and Drew congratulations for me."

"I will. Goodbye, Bryt."

"Bye," Bryt said, hanging up and turning around to see the others staring at her.

"Mike and Drew are Muggleborns I take it?" Julio asked.

Bryt nodded, taking another bite of toast as she sat down, "My little brothers are goin' to Hogwarts. This is great."

"You actually _want_ your brothers going to school with you?" Astrid asked, a confused look crossing her face.

"Of course," Bryt replied, "Mike and Drew have hounded me constantly about the wizarding world. They probably would have been crushed if I was the only witch in the family." A thought suddenly crossed Bryt's mind that made her worried. "I wonder what House they'll be in...I hope they'll both be in Gryffindor."

"Does that hat take families into account?" Sofí asked, referring to the Sorting Hat that Sorted the first-year students at Hogwarts into the four Houses.

Bryt shook her head. "Though it's true that all of Ron's family seems to be in Gryffindor, Parvati's twin, Padma, is in Ravenclaw. And Terry says his mother was in Hufflepuff...What if Mike and Drew aren't in Gryffindor? Or what if one of them is, and the other isn't?" Bryt suddenly felt a lot sicker, but couldn't voice her next worry: What if one, or both, of them ended up in Slytherin?

"Bryt, don't worry," Hermione said, "Your brothers will be fine. Even if they don't end up in Gryffindor, there's a chance they'll be in Ravenclaw. I'm sure Terry would keep an eye on them for you if that happened."

"And what about Hufflepuff?" Bryt asked, silently adding 'Or Slytherin?', "I'm not really friends with anyone there."

"Stop worryin' so much about it," this time it was Julio, "Mike and Drew are smart, they'll adapt quickly. Who knows? They might make friends on their first day who'll help them out."

Bryt nodded, picking at the crust of her toast. All she could really do was hope that Mike and Drew ended up in Gryffindor. Or if they didn't, they would at least be Sorted into Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff.

'_There's no way they can get into Slytherin,'_ Bryt thought, _'I don't think Muggleborns _can _end up there. They'll be fine...'_

"Come on, don't worry so much," Astrid said with a grin a she pushed her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose, "How about we go to that robe shop Sofí mentioned? We can get your and Hermione's dress robes. Ones that will look great on you and..." Astrid turned to Sofí. "What's that Muggle saying? Kick their boots off?"

"Knock their socks off," Sofí corrected, "And dress robe shoppin' sounds great to me. I need a new one fer the annual end of year dance at Salem."

Bryt fought the urge to groan. The last thing she wanted to do was any type of clothing shopping. She hated it and never saw the point in spending hours going through hundreds of outfits only to eventually pick only one or two. All Bryt cared about was if an outfit fit and if it was comfortable.

Still, Astrid was trying to be nice. Bryt wasn't about to turn down the offer, especially when spending a day out of the house probably would help distract her from her worries about Mike and Drew.

"Yeah, sure," Bryt finally said, "Let me go grab my backpack."

**xxxxx**

Carlev's Robes for Special Occasions sat at the end of Drakescale Shore and was a bright shop with light wood flooring and walls painted a pale purple. Bryt had been curious as to how dress robes differed from regular robes and noticed the ones for men mostly looked like regular robes, but seemed to be made of much finer fabrics. Dress robes for women seemed to be made of the same fine fabrics, but were a cross between regular robes and the dresses Bryt had seen at a Renaissance Festival she had attended once.

Bryt hated wearing dresses. She hadn't worn one since her grandparents' funerals when she was nine, and even then it hadn't been by her choice.

Sofí and Astrid weren't making things much easier on Bryt—or Hermione(who seemed just as uncomfortable with the dress robe shopping as Bryt did). The girls kept insisting on Bryt and Hermione trying different styles and the only one Bryt halfway liked, Astrid said Bryt couldn't get because it 'didn't suit her at all'. The only amusement Bryt could find from the experience was when Sofí and Astrid kept insisting Julio see every one that Hermione tried on, just to see the boy blush, look away, and mutter an awkward 'it looks nice'.

After several hours, they finally settled on a style that seemed to be made of a velvet fabric with some type of silky underlay—Bryt's being a dark blue while Hermione's a nice shade of purple, and Sofí getting one of made completely of silk and was a bright yellow. Glad to be finally done with the robe shop, they bought the dress robes and left as the sky began growing darker.

"I think it's gonna storm again," Julio said, gripping the bag that held Bryt and Hermione's copies of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four_.

"Then we'd better get home before the storm hits," Sofí said, leading the way.

Once back in the García home, Bryt and Hermione put away their dress robes and books, and Bryt sat on her bed, fishing out her letter from Terry that she still hadn't gotten to read yet.

"Are you coming back downstairs?" Hermione asked and Bryt looked up.

"No, I want to read Terry's letter," she said, "But...Just tell them I'm tired. I don't want Sofí decidin' she wants to come bug me."

Hermione nodded with a grin and left the room. Once alone, Bryt kicked off her sneakers and stretched back on her bed, ripping open her envelope to finally read Terry's response to her last letter.


	7. Off to the Quidditch World Cup

Bryt readjusted herself in the uncomfortable plastic chair with its back to the wall-sized window overlooking the airport runway. Mr. García sat in a chair a few seats down, wearing headphones and listening to his walkman. Bryt wasn't sure where Hermione and Julio were. They had said something about getting something to drink at one of the restaurants in the airport.

Bryt checked her watch again. They still had another half-hour until their flight was to leave. Sighing, Bryt looked down at her mini-backpack. All she had in it was her wand, camera, diary, and wizard money. There had been no room for anything else, so she had no way to entertain herself while waiting on the flight.

'_If any of the magazines were half-way worth readin', I would get one,'_ Bryt thought, sinking back in her chair.

Instead, Bryt had nothing. She reached up, playing with the loose strands of her headband scarf, thinking about barely an hour earlier when they had left the García home. Sofí and Astrid were about to head out to see a late-evening movie (as Astrid was incredibly curious about movie theaters) and left, giving their good-byes and saying they'd see Julio and Mr. García when they returned after the World Cup.

Bryt grinned, thinking about how in just over twelve hours, she'd be back in Britain. Oddly, Bryt was a lot more excited about going back to her home for the past three years than she was when she had come to her home of eleven years for the summer.

'_It's just 'cause of the World Cup,'_ Bryt thought, _'I'm excited about that.'_

Though it wasn't exactly true. Sure, she had been excited to come to the States, to spend the summer with her old friends, but it hadn't felt as if she were coming home. It was merely a trip she was taking. In truth, Bryt felt as if she were returning home now. Back to Britain, to her family, friends, boyfriend...

'_Is three years all it took for Britain to be more my home than Charleston?'_ Bryt thought, staring up at the ceiling far above her, unsure what to think of the realization. She had been born in Charleston and spent all of her life, up to age eleven, there. Yet, this summer, coming back to her hometown, Bryt hadn't felt like she was home. Realizing that she felt like nothing more than a visitor in a city that she had, only three years before, thought would always be her home was strange.

Bryt caught something out of the corner of her eye and turned to see Hermione and Julio had returned. Neither had a cup with them, so obviously wherever they had gone for a drink, they had stayed there to drink them.

"I am not looking forward to this flight," Hermione said, sitting next to Bryt.

"And jet lag usually hits worse when you're headin' east than it does when headin' west," Bryt pointed out, which caused Hermione to groan, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Well, we have a week before the World Cup actually takes place," Julio said, "Most jet lag don' last longer than that."

"And it might help that we'll be asleep for most of the flight," Bryt added, referring to the fact their flight was scheduled to leave at six-thirty in the afternoon.

Before Hermione could say anything, their flight was announced. Mr. García looked up, turning off the walkman and lowering the set of headphones around his neck.

"_Bien, es tiempo de ir_," he said. Bryt guessed that the music he had been listening to was in Spanish as Mr. García often had a hard time quickly switching back to English when he listened to music in his native language.

Bryt stood up, slinging her mini-backpack over her shoulder and straightening the light jacket tied around her waist, brought in case it was cool or began raining after they landed in Manchester.

After giving their tickets to the woman at the gate, they boarded the plane and found their seats. Bryt, who had lost the excitement of flying after the past few years, let Hermione take the window seat. Settling back, Bryt grinned and closed her eyes, letting her mind wander as she thought about the World Cup.

**xxxxx**

It was nearly one in the afternoon the following day when their thirteen-hour flight finally came to an end. Bryt stretched, feeling a little dazed. It was most likely because her body was telling her that it should be eight in the morning, not one in the afternoon.

'_Gettin' a bit of jet lag myself,'_ Bryt thought, unsurprised. Though jet lag usually didn't affect her when flying west, it did slightly when she flew east.

Bryt looked around at the airport parking lot and noticed the shuttle buses nearby. Bryt wondered if her father was behind the wheel of one of the buses, or if he were on route between Manchester and London, or even if he were working at all that day.

"Well, ready to go?" Mr. García asked, pulling Bryt from her daze.

Bryt nodded, adjusting her mini-backpack on her back. Their plan was for Mr. García to Apparate with Hermione to her home for her to let her parents know she was back, and to pack her trunk for school. Julio was going to Apparate with Bryt to her own home (as he had his license—witches and wizards in the United States got theirs at sixteen, instead of seventeen as with Britain) for her to do the same. Then, Mr. García would bring Hermione and her school trunk to the Watkins home for Mr. Watkins to take both Hermione and Bryt's trunks to The Burrow—where the Weasley family lived—since the girls would be staying the rest of the summer there after the World Cup.

Bryt followed Mr. García to a more deserted area, well away from the busy street where it would be unlikely that any passer-by would notice them. Bryt took a deep breath, anxious about Apparating. Julio had explained the process to Bryt and Hermione, but it had only made Bryt more anxious about the experience.

Bryt took Julio's extended arm and blew out a deep breath, but didn't breathe in afterwards, as Julio said helped. Bryt, then, braced herself, squeezed her eyes shut and gave a short nod, letting Julio know she was ready.

Bryt suddenly felt as if something large and heavy were pressing in on her, making her glad she had held her breath before Julio Apparated, as she knew the squeezing sensation would cut off her breathing anyway. The worst of it was the tightening around her stomach and feeling as if her head was being forcefully shrunk.

Just as suddenly as the sensation came, it was gone and Bryt felt the squeezing disappear. Bryt gasped on instinct, letting go of Julio, and dropping to her hands and knees, taking several deep breaths, feeling as if she were about to pass out.

"The firs' time can be a rough ride," Julio said and Bryt glanced up, blinking to clear her blurred vision. Slowly, Julio's face came into focus in front hers.

"No kiddin'," Bryt said, taking another shaky breath, her stomach churning and she ducked her head between her knees, "Ooh, I think I'm gonna be sick..."

"Bryt!"

"Are you okay?"

Bryt glanced up, at first thought she was seeing double. Then, she realized the identical brown-haired, brown-eyed, glasses-wearing boys she was seeing were her brothers. Apparently, they had seen Julio and Bryt arrive and had come out to greet them.

Bryt grinned at her brothers and said she was fine as she pushed herself to her feet, grateful that her stomach stayed settled.

'_Maybe eatin' so much lunch was a bad idea,'_ Bryt thought, remembering the large meal she had at the airport after their flight had arrived at Manchester.

"How long are you staying?" Drew asked as Mike grabbed onto Bryt's suitcase to take it inside for her.

"Only a couple of minutes," Bryt said, "Just long enough to pack my school trunk."

"Will you be back before we go to Hogwarts?" Mike was the one that asked this time. Bryt couldn't help but grin at the '_we_ go to Hogwarts'.

"No, sorry," Bryt answered as the four of them entered the Watkins residence, "After the World Cup, I'm spendin' the rest of the summer with the Weasleys—"

"Something I'm still not that sure of."

Bryt looked over to see her mother standing in the living room doorway, her arms crossed over her chest and her dark brown eyes focused on Bryt. Bryt would have given her mother a hug if she wasn't annoyed with her comment.

"Mom, I'm not gonna do anythin' stupid," she said, "I'm goin' to _Ron's_, for cryin' out loud. It's not like I'm goin' to spend the summer with my boyfriend."

"You're still going to spend a few weeks with a bunch of teenage boys."

"Who I won't do anythin' with," Bryt said, struggling to keep her temper in check. If she raised her voice or pushed it into a loud argument, she knew her mother would use it as an excuse to keep Bryt from visiting her friends. "There's no way I'm gonna get into that kind of trouble. Besides, this will be their house—Mr. and Mrs. Weasley will be there, too. And Harry and Hermione are goin' to be there. Ron didn't invite _just_ me."

"Which is the only reason I let you talk me into agreeing to this," Mrs. Watkins said, "You should get packing." Mrs. Watkins turned to Julio then, grinning at him. "It was nice to see you again, Julio."

"Same here, ma'am," Julio said.

Bryt resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her mother, but did give a sigh as she turned and went into her room. Mike, Drew, and Julio all followed.

"What was Mom talking about?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, what does she think you'll do at Ron's?" Drew added.

Bryt gave a snort of laughter, mostly because Julio had gone red and preoccupied himself with looking out the window.

"It's somethin' you two'll understand when you're older," Bryt said, ruffling her brothers' hairs, "Don't worry about it."

Both boys still looked confused, but didn't press the issue. Instead, they went back to their earlier subject: Hogwarts.

"Will we see you on the train?" Drew asked.

"Can we stay with you on the way there?"

Bryt looked between her brothers and noticed they looked worried and Bryt remembered how she had felt leading up to her first year at Hogwarts. Excited and terrified at the same time. And she hadn't had a friend or sibling to help her along, at least not before she met Harry and Ron.

'_Maybe they'll meet a friend along the way,'_ Bryt thought, but still. Mike and Drew were her brothers. She needed to look out for them.

"Sure, I'll hunt you down on the train," Bryt said with a grin, "And if you still want me to sit with you, I'm sure I can talk Harry, Ron, and Hermione in stayin' with us."

Both boys instantly looked relieved. Bryt grinned and ruffled their hairs again, then shooed them out of the room so she could pack.

After packing, assuring her brothers, once again, she'd stay with them on the Hogwarts Express, a quick goodbye to her mother to avoid another argument about staying at the Burrow, and another uncomfortable Apparating experience that left Bryt, once more, feeling like she might be sick, Bryt was sitting in a patch of grass on a field with Hermione, Julio, and Mr. García. Bryt wasn't sure where they were. All she knew was that it was the location of the soonest-leaving portkey to the Quidditch World Cup. There were portkeys much closer to London, but they weren't scheduled to leave for several hours and Mr. García wanted to get to the camp as soon as possible.

From what Bryt knew, portkeys were similar to Apparating, only using an item to transport groups of people instead of a witch or wizard concentrating on transporting him-or-herself and whoever was in contact with them at the time. Bryt was already dreading the experience.

For now, Bryt was getting to put off the experience because the portkey, which was an old, rusted hubcap lying on the ground near them, wasn't to leave until two, and they were waiting on a second family to arrive.

Bryt checked her watch and noticed it was only a couple of minutes until two. That meant the second family didn't have much longer to arrive.

"Ah, I see them now," Mr. García said, getting to his feet. Bryt, Hermione, and Julio followed his lead.

Bryt could tell the pair was odd even from a distance. The pair appeared to be a father and daughter, the girl not looking much younger than Bryt, and appeared to be pureblood due to the choice in wardrobe. The girl's was almost normal—wearing a simple dress, though it was a bright green and her accessories were very bizarre: A necklace with what looked like bottle corks hanging from it and earrings that seemed to be made of radishes. Not to mention she had her dirty blonde hair in a bun with what Bryt was sure was the girl's wand stuck through it.

The father was much more bizarre, wearing a multi-colored outfit that made Bryt think of a clown. His stringy hair went to his shoulders and Bryt couldn't look at his face too long. One of his eyes seemed permanently turned toward his nose and it made Bryt squirm uncomfortably.

"You just made it," Mr. García said with a grin, "The portkey is scheduled to go any minute now."

"Ah, yes, good," the man said, "It's always good manners to arrive right on time. Shall we?"

Mr. García nodded, motioning to the hubcap nearby. Bryt positioned herself between Hermione and Mr. García, putting her hand against the hubcap, feeling a little idiotic. While she stood there, she became suddenly aware of someone staring at her and looked up to see the blonde girl across from her. For the first time, Bryt noticed the dreamy look on the girl's face and how unnaturally large the girl's eyes seemed to be.

"You don't look too well," she said suddenly, her voice as distant and dreamy as her expression, "Have you recently come into contact with a Blibbering Humdinger? Their bites can cause some people to become dreadfully sick, you know."

Bryt blinked, completely confused. She had just opened her mouth to ask what a Blibbering Humdinger was when she suddenly felt herself lurched forward. Banging between Mr. García and Hermione, Bryt saw colors flying around her, which churned her stomach even more than it always was. She squeezed her eyes shut, but with the jerking sensation, it didn't help much.

Barely a second later, the ground returned suddenly and Bryt lost balance, falling to the ground. She groaned, pushing herself to her knees. A sickening feeling rushed through Bryt and she suddenly pushed herself to her feet, stumbled over to nearby bushes—and threw up.

"Bryt, are you okay?"

Bryt glanced up to see Julio and Hermione crouched next to her and Mr. García right behind them. Bryt took a shaky breath, making a face over the bitter taste left in her mouth.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, and in truth, she was. Though she has a bit shaky now, she no longer felt the nausea that had been plaguing her since the first Apparation experience.

"Still, you should lie down once we get camp set up," Julio said as Mr. García turned to the two they had arrived with(one of them had said something, but Bryt didn't know what since she was paying more attention to Julio).

"I'm fine," Bryt said again, "Don't worry."

Bryt got to her feet, taking another deep breath and looking over to see the wizard and his daughter had left and Mr. García had a confused look on his face.

"Her first time with a portkey, huh?"

All four of them looked over to a tired-looking woman dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. She gave them a grin as she pulled out a piece of parchment, looking at it as she continued.

"I threw up my first time, too. Name?"

"Roberto García," Mr. García said, adjusting his pack.

"García...García...Ah, here you are. First field you come to," the woman pointed off the distance, not looking up from her parchment, "About a quarter-mile. The site manager is Mr. Roberts." The woman looked up at Bryt now. "Feel up for the walk?"

Bryt nodded, giving a grin. "Yeah, I'm feelin' fine now, thanks."

The woman nodded and Bryt, Hermione, Julio, and Mr. García turned away, staring of through the more in the direction that they had been pointed to. Bryt grinned a little, resisting the urge to start skipping. She couldn't wait to see how the campsite would be set up, with so many witches and wizards from all over the world.

'_And no more Apparatin' or portkeys,'_ Bryt thought in relief. Things could only get better from here.


	8. The Match Approaches

The next week went by far too quickly for Bryt. She was increasingly fascinated with the campsites full of witches and wizards from all over the world. Bryt, Hermione, and Julio went wandering daily, exploring the field that was slowly filling with tents. Most tents wouldn't have been out of place in a Muggle campground—as was how it was supposed to be, to avoid raising suspicion from the Muggle campgrounds owner—but others were no doubt magical. Some simply had a chimney sticking out from the roof while others raged from having multiple stories to full gardens attached to the front.

"I don't think those tents are what the Ministry of Magic had in mind," Hermione had commented their first day of exploring.

"I think they jus' wanna show off," Julio had replied.

The tent Bryt was staying in with Hermione, Julio, and Mr. García looked perfectly normal on the outside, much like a tent she would have used to go camping years ago. Though on the inside, the tent resembled a small, two-bedroom home. The front half of the tent consisting of a single room with a potbelly stove, two couches, and a small bookcase on one side and a small kitchenette and round table—just big enough for four chairs—on the other.

When they had first seen the bedrooms(which held barely enough room for two twin-sized beds and a narrow set of chest-of-drawers, so that with the room left, Bryt and Hermione couldn't both stand), both girls had been worried about how Julio would handle them with his claustrophobia, but Mr. García had thought ahead and had a cot set up in the main room for Julio to use.

Bryt was currently in one of the two tiny bedrooms, digging under her own bed for her sneakers, as they had disappeared during the night again. Once she found them, Bryt straightened up and pulled them on, tying the laces before grabbing her miniature backpack and heading from the tiny bedroom, then out of the tent itself to see Hermione with Julio and Mr. García, sitting by a fire.

"Just in time," Mr. García said with a grin, "I just finished breakfast. Eat up."

Bryt grinned and sat down on the ground, taking the plate of scrambled eggs and fried ham that Mr. García offered. As she started to eat, Bryt looked over to a nearby family with two girls (who seemed barely older than three) riding in circles on small broomsticks that didn't hover too far off the ground.

Bryt was always fascinated with the two girls. She had never seen many witches or wizards younger than eleven. Sure, there had been a few during the Fourth of July celebration at Drakescale, and Bryt had seen a few with their parents when shopping at both Drakescale and Diagon Alley, but she had never been able to just sit and watch them play. Bryt couldn't help but wonder what kinds of games young witches and wizards would play, and if they were anything like the games of tag, catch, or cops and robbers like Bryt used to play.

"Great day for a Quidditch match," Mr. García said happily, jerking Bryt from her thoughts as she looked back to the man, "_Es perfecto_."

"I'm just hopin' the Irish win," Bryt said, "I'd hate to have to be around Dean and Seamus if they didn't."

Of course, Bryt was referring to two of her fellow Gryffindors at Hogwarts. Bryt had been heading through the camp alone the day before and bumped into them in the overly-green camping area full supporters for the Irish National Team.

"Harry! Ron!"

Bryt blinked, her last forkful of food still in her mouth, as she looked up at Hermione's exclamation. Sure enough, Bryt instantly recognized the tall, lanky red-haired, freckle-faced teen and scrawny black-haired boy in bottle cap glasses.

Bryt put down her now-empty plate and waving to the two to get their attention, calling their names again. Both of them stopped, turning to the girls.

"Hey guys!" Bryt said, grinning brightly. She had started to head over to give them a hug, but stopped herself when she noticed both boys were carrying heavy iron pots filled with water.

"What the _bloody hell_ did you do to your hair?" Ron asked, staring at Bryt with an odd expression. Bryt raised an eyebrow, confused. After not seeing each other all summer, Ron was asking about her _hair_?

"Ron!" Hermione hissed.

"Somethin' wrong with gettin' a haircut?" Bryt asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No! It's just...You didn't say—"

"I have to tell you when I get a haircut?"

"No! But..."

"Ron? Maybe you should stop talking..." Harry said, though he had apparently been hoping Bryt wouldn't hear, because when Bryt looked over at him, Harry suddenly looked away, looking awkward.

Bryt kept her arms crossed over her chest, still glaring at Ron as an awkward silence fell over the group that lasted for several seconds before someone cleared their throat behind Bryt and Hermione, causing both girls to jump and turn to Julio. Bryt bit her lower lip. She had forgotten Julio and Mr. García were there.

"It's nice to see you again," Julio said with a grin, looking between Harry and Ron, who both seemed eager to get away from the awkwardness of Bryt and Ron's short-lasting argument. Ron glanced over to their tent where Mr. García was watching them.

"Your sister isn't here, is she?" he asked cautiously and Bryt couldn't help but laugh. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought that Ron was terrified of Sofí.

"No, she don' like Quidditch," Julio answered and Ron muttered something under his breath that caused Harry to give a snort and nearly drop his pot of water.

"Uh, I think you should get those back to your camp," Hermione said, looking to the heavy pots.

"Where _is_ your camp?" Bryt asked.

"Down at the end of the field," Harry answered, "Right on the edge of the woods."

Bryt turned back to Mr. García, waving to him and saying she was going to head off with her friends.

"_Bien_," Mr. García said with a nod, "I'll come find you when it's time to head to the game."

"Are you coming, Julio?" Hermione asked, looking up at the teen.

"Sure," Julio nodded, grinning at Hermione, who grinned back. Bryt smirked, then noticed Harry and Ron were exchanging a smug look themselves.

Bryt gripped her hands into fists, biting down on her tongue to keep from saying anything. She had expected Ron to react to Hermione and Julio much like he did with Bryt and Terry. Instead, Ron seemed to not care, as if he were planning on smug, embarrassing comments to say, much like Harry did to Bryt.

'_Maybe he's finally over whatever his deal was with others datin','_ Bryt thought, trying to calm herself down.

Bryt, Hermione, and Julio followed Ron and Harry through the field, towards the woods. Bryt walked between Harry and Ron, already talking about the upcoming Quidditch match. Bryt was ecstatic to find out that the Weasleys had gotten Top Box tickets as well. She had known before she left Charleston that Mr. Weasley was trying, but she hadn't been able to talk with Ron or Harry in the past week.

"You were only supposed to bring back water, not more people," Fred Weasley, one of Ron's five brothers was the first to greet the group as they approached.

"And one of them's a dwarf, Fred!" George, Fred's twin, added, smirking at Bryt.

"Are you crazy, George? That's clearly too short to be a dwarf! I say she's a goblin."

"Ha-ha, you two are a riot," Bryt said, rolling her eyes. She looked around. Ginny, Ron's younger, and only, sister waved and grinned at Bryt, Hermione, and Julio in greeting. Mr. Weasley was sitting at a fire pit, several burnt matches scattered around him.

"Dad's been having fun with the matches," Fred commented when he noticed Bryt looking, "We haven't even got the fire started yet because of it."

Hermione went over to help Mr. Weasley try to start the fire, which they finally got going, but Mr. Weasley would have to wait before cooking anything. He offered to cook for Hermione, Bryt, and Julio, but they declined, saying they had just eaten at their camp.

Bryt sat with her friends, watching the activity around the camp. There was a lot more human traffic here than towards the middle of the field where Bryt was camping. Mr. Weasley kept pointing out who people were as they passed, and Bryt listened eagerly.

"That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office...Here comes Gilbert Wimple; he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms; he's had those horns for a while now...Hello, Arnie...Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obliviator—member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you know...and tha's Bode and Croaker...they're Unspeakables..."

"They're what?"

"From the Department of Mysteries, top secret, no idea what they get up to..."

Bryt continued to watch the people walking by, and she wouldn't have noticed Ron's three other brothers arriving if Percy hadn't announced himself quite loudly.

Bryt had never seen either Bill or Charlie, the two eldest Weasley brothers. Bryt had expected Bill to be a lot like Percy from how Ron had described him, but she was surprised to find Bill was quite the opposite. He wore his hair long, much like Julio did, but, unlike Julio, Bill kept his hair pulled back in a ponytail, and he wore an earring that had what Bryt was sure was a fang from some magical creature.

Charlie was shorter and stockier, built much like the twins, and was so freckly that Bryt had thought he had somehow overcome the easily burnt 'red hair skin' and was tanned. She noticed Charlie also had a burn scar on one of his arms.

Bryt, Hermione, and Julio each introduced themselves when asked and Bryt started to ask Charlie about his work on Romania, but Ron spoke up first, telling Charlie that Bryt had 'an unhealthy obsession with dangerous animals' and Bryt glared at Ron, then forced herself not to ask any questions, just to disprove Ron's comment.

Nearly an hour later, when Mr. Weasley was done cooking, Bryt decided to get back at Ron by stealing one of the sausages off his plate when he started to eat.

"You said you already ate!" Ron complained, pulling his plate out of Bryt's reach, "You're worse than an owl!"

Bryt just grinned sweetly at Ron, eating the sausage she had already stolen from Ron's plate.

Mr. Weasley suddenly jumped to his feet, waving to someone in the distance. "Aha! The man of the moment! Ludo!"

Bryt, confused, looked up to a man that definitely stood out in the crowd. Mostly due to the fact he was wearing yellow-and-black-striped Quidditch robes with a large wasp on the front. He looked like he might have once been quite strong and muscular, but had let himself go over the years, and his nose seemed flat, as if broken and not healed properly. Offsetting that appearance was the man's blonde hair, rounded face, and bright blue eyes that seemed to give him a boyish look.

"He's he one that got Dad the tickets," Ron whispered to Bryt, Hermione, and Julio near him.

"Ludo Bagman? Bryt asked, looking at Ron, recognizing the man nearby from a book on famous Quidditch players, "Didn't he used to play for the Wimbourne Wasps?"

"Yeah, but he's head of the Department of Games and Sports now."

"Ahoy there!" Ludo Bagman called out, coming over to the group, "Arthur, old man! What a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming...and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements...Not much for me to do!"

A group of Ministry wizards ran by then, heading off to deal with a magical fire nearby that was sending off violet sparks. Bryt thought it was easy to tell that there was a lot that Bagman could have been doing. Percy suddenly jumped to his feet, rushing forward and holding out his hand to Bagman. Bryt rolled her eyes, completely unsurprised that Percy was obviously trying to make a good impression on higher-ups in the Ministry.

"Ah—yes," Mr. Weasley said, "This is my son, Percy. He's just started at the Ministry—"

'_No surprise there,'_ Bryt thought.

"—And this is Fred—no, George, sorry—that's Fred," Mr. Weasley continued, pointing out each person as he introduced them, "—Bill, Charlie, Ron—my daughter, Ginny—and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger, Harry, Potter, and Bryt Watkins—and then one of Bryt's friends...Sorry, what was your name again, boy?"

"Julio García," Julio said with a grin, not bothered that Mr. Weasley didn't remember the name. After all, they had only met once before, and only very briefly. Bryt didn't even know if Mr. Weasley had learned Julio's name back then.

"Ah, yes, that's right," Mr. Weasley gave an embarrassed grin, "Everyone, this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets—"

Bagman waved Mr. Weasley off as he looked over the group.

"I don't remember getting this many tickets, though," he said, looking back over at Mr. Weasley.

"Oh, no, you didn't," Mr. Weasley replied, "Bryt, Hermione, and Julio are here with Julio's father."

Bagman grinned at that, looking at the group before back at Mr. Weasley.

"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" he asked, patting a pocket on his robes, which gave a jingling noise that told Bryt the pocket was full of coins, "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first—I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years—and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm for a week-long match."

Bryt made a face, running her hand through her hair. Bryt liked a little harmless bet between friends, as she had actually done with her boyfriend over a Quidditch match the year before, but high-stakes gambling was something Bryt had never liked. People could lose way too much with things like that, not to mention someone could become addicted to it or have their lives ruined.

"Oh...go on, then," Mr. Weasley said, "Let's see...a Galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A Galleon?" Bagman seemed disappointed, "Very well, very well...Any other takers?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," Mr. Weasley replied, "Molly wouldn't like—"

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," Fred cut in as he and George counted through their money, "That Ireland wins—but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and we'll throw in a fake wand."

Bryt gave a snort, then tried to cover her laugh with a cough when Ron and Harry both looked over at her. The chance that Fred and George would win that bet was impossible. They were just throwing away their money.

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that—" Percy stared, but Bagman had taken the fake wand and given it a wave, causing it to turn into a rubber chicken. Bagman began laughing hysterically, which Bryt thought was an overreaction to the wand.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one this convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

Percy suddenly got a look on his face that was a mixture of surprise and disproval and Bryt started giggling.

"Boys," Mr. Weasley said, "I don't want you betting...That's all your savings...Your mother—"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur! They're old enough to now what they want! You reckon Ireland will win, but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance...I'll give you excellent odds on that one...We'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we..."

Bryt rolled her eyes again, but didn't say anything as Fred and George took the slip of paper Bagman handed them.

"Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose?" Bagman asked, looking back to Mr. Weasley, "I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks a hundred and fifty languages."

"Mr. Crouch?" Percy asked, sounding excited, which shocked Bryt. She didn't think Percy could act any other way than an annoying, self-absorbed, power-hungry jerk, "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll..."

"Anyone can speak Troll," Fred said, "All you have to do is point and grunt."

Percy glared at Fred, then switched his glare to Bryt when she began laughing.

"Any news on Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked once Bagman sat down with the group.

"Who?" Bryt asked Ron under her breath and Ron gave a shrug.

"Not a dicky bird," Bagman said, "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha...memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think I might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that. But we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh—talk of the devil! Barty!"

Bryt, once again, looked away from their group to one of the nearby wizards passing through. Bryt instantly spotted the man they were talking about, even before he began walking towards them, and could understand why Percy seemed to think highly of him. He seemed to be the picture of a perfect businessman or banker, his hair, and even his mustache, straight and neat. Bryt figured this man wouldn't stand out in the least as a Muggle—if it weren't for the fact they were in the middle of a campground and this man was wearing a new, neatly pressed business suit.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barty," Bagman said happily, patting the ground beside him.

"No thank you, Ludo," Crouch replied, sounding annoyed and impatient—and Bryt thought again on how she could tell why Percy liked this man, "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh, is _that_ what they're after? I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Mr. Crouch!" Percy was on his feet quickly, rushing over to the man and doing an odd bow that had Bryt fighting off a laugh, "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Ron," Bryt whispered, leaning closer to her friend, "I think your brother's in love with this guy."

Ron made a noise, choking on his tea and spilling it down the front of his shirt. Then, he cursed under his breath and stood up, disappearing into the tent, most likely to change his clothes.

"Yes—thank you, Weatherby," Mr. Crouch said, causing Fred and George to choke on their drinks this time, but they managed not to spill theirs. Bryt burst into a fit of giggles when she noticed Percy's ears going red with embarrassment and he rushed to the tea kettle to pour a cup.

"Oh and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur," Mr. Crouch said, "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."

Mr. Weasley sighed. "I've sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a thousand times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," Mr. Crouch replied, taking his cup from Percy as Ron returned, sitting back down next to Bryt, "He's desperate to export here."

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" Bagman asked.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle," Mr. Crouch said, "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve—but that was before carpets were banned, of course."

Bryt had no doubt that the man's tone was to make it clear his family were all just as law-abiding as he himself appeared to be. Again, Bryt wasn't surprised that Percy liked this man so much.

"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" Bagman asked.

"Fairly. Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" Mr. Weasley asked and Ludo looked at him as if he just sprouted a second head.

"Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun...Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"

Bryt blinked, completely confused as Mr. Crouch gave Bagman a stern look.

"We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details—"

"Oh details! They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts—"

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," Mr. Crouch cut in, "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

Mr. Crouch handed back the still-full cup and waited for Bagman to get up, though he still looked impatient.

"See you later!" Bagman said, gulping down the last bit of tea, "You'll be up in the Top Box with me—I'm commentating!" Bagman headed over to Mr. Crouch and they both Disapparated.

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" Fred asked, "What were they talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Mr. Weasley said with a knowing smile. That just annoyed Bryt. She hated feeling like she was being left out of the loop on something big.

"It's classified information until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," Percy said, "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh shut up, Weatherby," Fred said.

"Well, whatever happens, y'all have to tell me," Julio said, looking to Hermione and Bryt.

"We will," Hermione replied with a grin.

As the afternoon wore on, the energy around the camp built more and more. As it began to grow dark, Mr. García came over, soon starting up a conversation with Mr. Weasley that Bryt didn't bother paying attention to.

It wasn't long before the Ministry of Magic seemed to give up forbidding magic, as more was happening as the Quidditch match drew closer. Souvenir salesmen were Apparating every few feet with trays and carts of merchandise.

"I've been saving my pocket money all summer for this," Ron said as he and Bryt stopped at one cart while Harry, Hermione, and Julio went to another stand.

Bryt grinned, buying a shamrock pin for herself and a small model Firebolt that really flew that she planned to send to Terry after the match—or give him the model at Hogwarts if the match ended up lasting too long. Ron had bought a large green rosette that called out the names of the team members, and a ridiculous-looking hat with a dancing shamrock, which clashed against Ron's red hair and Bryt laughed, telling him he looked like he was a Saint Patrick's Day advertisement. Ron replied with a glare as he bought a third souvenir, a small model of the Bulgarian Seeker, Viktor Krum.

"Wow, look at these!"

Bryt and Ron turned to where Harry, Julio, and Hermione were at another of the carts, Julio holding two large brass objects, one of which he was handing over to Hermione with an embarrassed grin. Bryt and Ron headed over and once close enough to the cart, Bryt noticed the objects were binoculars with nearly a dozen little knobs and dials.

"Ominoculars," the salesman said, "You can reply action...slow everything down...and they flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain—ten Galleons each."

"Wish I hadn't bought this now," Ron said, pointing to his hat, staring longingly at the Ominoculars.

"You shouldn't have bought that _at all_," Bryt said, gaining another glare from her friend. Bryt just smirked and looked back at the Ominoculars. Even if she hadn't bought her shamrock pin and model Firebolt, she wouldn't have had the money for a pair. Most of her money had been spent throughout the summer in Charleston, leaving her practically broke of her summer spending money. She did have more, but it was locked away in her school trunk to be used on the various Hogsmeade visits in the upcoming school year—Bryt hadn't trusted herself to not end up spending it if she had brought it with her to the World Cup.

"I would offer t'get another pair," Julio said awkwardly, "But I ain't got enough Galleons left."

"Three pairs," Harry said, turning to the salesman. Bryt and Ron both stared at him, Ron going red.

"No—don't bother," he said, obviously uncomfortable, as he always had been about his family's financial situation, while Harry had a small family fortune he had inherited.

"Harry, you don't—" Bryt started, but Harry was shoving the Ominoculars into Ron and Bryt's hands.

"You won't be getting anything for Christmas," Harry said with a grin, "For about ten years, mind."

Bryt and Ron both laughed, agreeing to Harry's statement. Bryt thanked him, giving her friend a hug.

"I can get us some programs," Hermione offered, already starting towards a nearby cart.

Once their shopping was done and their money nearly gone, the four went back to the Weasley's tent where Bill, Charlie, and Ginny were all wearing the same green rosettes that Ron had bought, Mr. Weasley carrying an Irish flag, and Mr. García had his own pair of Ominoculars and was wearing a shamrock pin similar to Bryt's. Neither Fred nor George had bought anything, as all their money had gone to the bet that Bryt was sure they'd foolishly lose.

Bryt stored her model Firebolt in her bag as a loud gong sounded through the fields and red and green lanterns began lighting up in the woods.

"It's time!" Mr. Weasley said happily, looking almost beside himself in excitement, "Come on, let's go!"

Bryt grinned brightly, fighting hard to keep from skipping along behind her friends, feeling more excited than she could ever remember being in her life.


	9. Ireland vs Bulgaria

Excitement built in Bryt as their group moved through the woods along the lantern-lit path. Sounds of hundreds of conversations echoed around them, causing them to have to raise their voices slightly as they talked and joked the entire walk.

Once they made it through the trees, Bryt's mouth fell open in awe at the stadium in front of her. It was massive, bigger than any sports stadium Bryt had seen before, and was a glowing gold color. She was positive the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts could fit into this stadium several times over, and Bryt suspected most of its size would be seats.

'_I wonder how they keep Muggles away from here,'_ Bryt thought.

"Seats a hundred thousand," Mr. Weasley said and Bryt looked over at him, "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have gotten anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and they've had to dash away again...Bless them."

Bryt, curious, was about to ask more about Muggle Repelling Charms, but they had reached one of the many entrances to the stadium.

"Prime seats!" the witch said as she checked their tickets, "Top Box! Straight upstairs, and as high as you can go."

Bryt's excitement built more and more as they moved up the purple-carpeted stairs and the crowd slowly thinned around them, moving through doors on either side of them. Bryt, Harry, Hermione, and the younger Weasley children, used to the constant climbing of stairs at Hogwarts, weren't bothered by the climbing. Julio and his father, however, seemed out of breath as they finally reached a small box at the highest point of the stadium, set perfectly between the two sets of goal posts.

Bryt looked around, her face beginning to hurt with how much she had been grinning. The box they were now in had twenty or so seats and overlooked the stadium with an amazing view of thousands of witches and wizards were slowly finding their way to their seats.

The Quidditch pitch was well-kept, somehow seeming even larger than the one at Hogwarts, with the stands circling around it and a large blackboard right across the pitch from the Top Box, cursive writing appearing and disappearing across it in advertisements for everything from racing brooms to cleaning supplies.

Bryt moved to the front row with her friends and leaned over the railing some, looking down around the pitch. There was no doubt that they had the best seats in the stadium and Bryt couldn't wait for the match to start.

"This is so excitin'," Bryt said, grinning wildly as she scanned the crowds around them, wondering if Terry might be somewhere among the hundred-thousand witches and wizards. From the last letter, Terry had said he doubted that his parents would be able to get tickets, but they were still trying.

'_He's gonna be so jealous,'_ Bryt thought, feeling a jab of guilt. Here she was, in the best seats in the entire stadium. She was here with her best friends (aside from Sofí, who didn't enjoy Quidditch) yet not her boyfriend.

This wasn't the first time Bryt had felt guilty of not having Terry around, or over sharing something with her friends, but not him. The guiltiness had been coming up a lot over the summer. Especially with how their recent school year had ended. While Bryt and her friends knew of Sirius Black's innocence, and even played a part in helping him escape, Bryt had had to keep what had happened a secret from Terry. It was something she still hated, but knew she couldn't tell Terry the truth.

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" a voice asked from behind them, snapping Bryt out of her thoughts. Mostly because it dawned on her the voice was similar to Wilsa, the worker elf Bryt met at the Jonners' house.

Though the voice had mentioned Dobby. Bryt knew Dobby was a house elf that had worked for the Malfoys before Harry had freed him at the end of their second year. Curious, Bryt turned around, instantly recognizing the tiny creature as an elf, as it looked very similar to Wilsa, though with a squat, round nose and wearing a tea cozy.

"Sorry," Harry said a couple of seats down from Bryt, "I just thought you were someone I knew."

'_So this house elf isn't Dobby,'_ Bryt thought, though she knew it already. This house elf wasn't wearing normal clothing, a sign of house elf enslavement. Bryt gripped the back of her chair slightly at the thought.

"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" the elf said. Bryt guessed this one was female, as her voice was quite high, like Wilsa's. Of course, Bryt had never seen a male elf, house or worker, so she didn't know how close their voices would sound.

The house elf behind them hid her face in her hands, as if the light in the Top Box was too bright for her. "My name is Winky, sir—and you, sir—" She moved her fingers, staring at Harry with her large eyes, "You is surely Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, I am," Harry said, his tone slightly annoyed. Bryt couldn't blame him, She knew it couldn't be the best thing, to be recognized everywhere one went.

"But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!" Winky said, still staring at Harry.

"How is he?" Harry asked, "How's freedom suiting him?"

"Ah, sir," Winky said, shaking her head sadly, "Ah, sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favor, sir, when you is setting him free."

'_Merlin, how many times is she gonna keep sayin' 'sir'?'_ Bryt thought, watching the house elf.

"Why?" Harry asked, staring at Winky, "What's wrong with him?"

"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir. Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."

"Why not?"

Winky stared at Harry through her fingers and continued in a horrified whisper, "_He is wanting pay for his work, sir._"

"Nothin' wrong with that," Bryt spoke up, "The worker elves in the United States are paid, and they're perfectly happy."

Winky looked at Bryt as if she had suddenly sprouted a second head before hiding her face behind her hands again.

"House elves is not paid, miss!" she said, horrified, turning back to Harry, "No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir what is unbecoming to a house elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin."

Bryt opened her mouth to protest again, but Harry spoke up first.

"Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun," he said.

"House elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," Winky said, "House elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter, but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir."

"That's stupid!" Bryt said, gripping on her seat, "If you're afraid of heights, you shouldn't have to come up here!"

"House elves does as they is told, miss," Winky said simply, as if that were an acceptable explanation, "Master wants me to save him a seat. He is very busy." Winky nodded to the seat next to her, still keeping her face hidden in her hands. "Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, miss, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house elf."

Winky glanced to the edge of the box, then fully hid her face again, obviously done with talking. Bryt glared ahead of her as she turned back around in her seat.

"So that's a house elf?" Ron asked, "Weird things, aren't they?"

"They're _slaves_, Ron!" Bryt snapped.

Ron huffed and pulled out his Omnioculars, focusing them down towards the field. Bryt rolled her eyes, sitting back and yanking out her program, opening it to try and distract her from Winky behind her.

"Wild!" Ron said, and Bryt glanced up at him, "I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again...and again...and again..."

"That's disgustin', Ron," Bryt said, shaking her head, looking back at her program as Hermione spoke up from her other side.

"'A display from the team mascots will precede the match,'" Hermione read from her own program.

"Oh, that's always worth watching," Mr. Weasley said, "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."

"Really?" Bryt asked excitedly, leaning back over the railing and seeing if she could find any sign of what creatures the Irish and Bulgarians would bring. Not seeing any yet, Bryt sighed, sinking back in her seat, ignoring Ron, who was smirking at her.

Over the next half hour, the Top Box slowly filled, though Bryt didn't pay much attention to who was coming. She spent the time talking with her friends over the upcoming match and laughing at Percy jumping to his feet every time someone showed up. The only time Bryt paid any notice to who had come was when the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, had arrived and greeted Harry like a friend he hadn't seen in a while.

Bryt bit down on her tongue, fighting the urge to glare at the man. After the past school year, especially involving the events with Buckbeak and Sirius, Bryt didn't like Fudge at all. Though, he _was_ the Minister of Magic, and even Bryt knew it'd be a bad idea to say anything against him. Instead, she decided to ignore him, until she heard him mention someone that Bryt had to turn around to make sure she had heard correctly.

Sure enough, Lucius Malfoy had shown up with his son, Draco, and a blonde woman that Bryt was sure was Draco Malfoy's mother. Bryt glared at them as they went to the last empty seats—right behind Mr. Weasley.

"Ah, Fudge," Mr. Malfoy said, shaking hands with the Minister, "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

Bryt glanced at Mrs. Malfoy, who had a disgusted look on her face as she looked along the front row.

"How do you do, how do you do?" Fudge greeted, smiling and giving a small bow to Mrs. Malfoy, "Allow me to introduce Mr. Oblansk—Obalonsk—well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else—you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

Bryt glanced between Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy as they looked at each other and Bryt clearly remembered two years ago when the two men had gotten into a fight in the middle of the bookstore in Diagon Alley. Though no fight started this time, Mr. Malfoy kept his gaze harsh as he looked up and down the row.

"Good lord, Arthur," he said, "What did you have to see to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't fetch this much."

"Lucius was just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur," Fudge said, obviously not noticing Mr. Malfoy's insult, "He's here as my guest."

"How—how nice," Mr. Weasley said, giving a smile that was obviously forced.

Bryt started glaring at Mr. Malfoy as he looked back at her and Hermione, a disgusted look crossing his face. Bryt knew exactly what his problem was. A pureblood extremest, Mr. Malfoy hated those who were Muggleborn. Luckily, he seemed smart enough not to say anything against them while standing right next to the Minister of Magic. Mr. Malfoy gave a short nod before returning to his seat. His son glared at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Bryt before sitting between Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.

"Slimy gits," Ron muttered as they turned back around in their seats. Bryt opened her mouth to add her own insult, but Ludo Bagman had arrived.

"Everyone ready?" he asked, looking just as excited as everyone around him, "Minister—ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," Fudge replied.

Bagman pulled out his wand, pointing it at his throat and said, "_Sonorus_!" When he continued, Bryt jumped slightly as Bagman's voice echoed around the entire stadium.

"Ladies and gentlemen...welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

Bryt joined in the cheering and clapping as national anthems echoed around them from thousands of small flags. The last advertisement disappeared from the blackboard, replaced by "BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0".

"And now," Bagman continued, "Without further ado, allow me to introduce...the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

Bryt leaned forward, looking off to the right side of the stadium, curious about what the Bulgarian National Mascots were.

"I wonder what they've brought," Mr. Weasley said, "Aaah! _Veela_!"

"Veela?" Bryt echoed, leaning forward over the railing more. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite remember from where. Most likely from one of the many books on magical creatures she had read over the past three years.

Bryt soon got her answer as a hundred women came onto the field. Bryt raised an eyebrow, watching them, trying to figure out what made these women creatures. They didn't look that different from regular women. True, they were all very attractive and all seemed to have the same white-blonde hair and tall, slender builds, but they still seemed like perfectly normal women.

Music started and the veela began dancing. Bryt sighed, leaning back in her seat, not paying much attention to them. She was trying to figure out where she had heard the term veela before and what it was about the group of women that made them be classified as 'creatures'. What annoyed her the most was the fact that she felt as if the answer were right in front of her face, as if she should already know it, but she just couldn't recall it.

Something brushed against Bryt's arm, pulling her from her thoughts. She turned just in time to see Ron jump up, looking as if he were planning to dive out of the Top Box towards the veela.

"Ron!" Bryt snapped, grabbing the boy by the back of his shirt and yanking him back towards his seat, as the music died away, "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

Ron didn't seem to hear, as he was yelling loudly as the veela left. He wasn't the only one. Angry yells were filling the entire stadium. Bryt looked to Hermione next to her and noticed her friend had her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at Julio, who was leaning over the edge of the Top Box railing, yelling loudly.

Bryt blinked, completely caught off-guard. She couldn't believe what could have possessed Julio to act as he was.

'_Wait, the veela!' _Bryt thought, turning back to where the women had disappeared. It finally dawned on her why the name sounded familiar—they were women with an unnatural hold over men. Bryt remembered that when she first read of them, they reminded her of the sirens of Greek mythology. It was no wonder the men were acting so strangely.

"_Honestly_!" Hermione hissed, still glaring at her boyfriend when he finally seemed to regain his senses. Julio went red in the face, avoiding looking at Hermione, sinking low in his seat and hanging his head slightly, as if he wanted to just disappear.

"And now, kindly put your wands in the air..." Bagman continued, "For the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Bryt leaned forward again, watching in excitement as a streak of green and gold shot across the stadium. After a lap, the streak split in two, heading in opposite directions, giving of a rainbow behind it before fading into a giant shamrock that started across the field again, giving off a shower of gold coins.

"Leprechauns!" Bryt said in realization, laughing and cheering at the display. Truthfully, she shouldn't have expected anything else from the Irish.

"There you go!" Ron said and Bryt looked over at her friend to see him shoving a handful of gold in Harry's hands, "For the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!"

"Uh, Ron—" Bryt started, about to inform her friend that his plan wouldn't work since leprechaun gold disappeared after a few hours, but Bagman had started talking again, drowning out her voice.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome—the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team!"

'_Oh well, I'll tell him later,' _Bryt thought, grinning as she watched the line of players in red robes shoot across the field one by one—Dimitrov, Ivanova, Zograf, Levski, Vulchanov, Volkov, Krum.

"That's him! That's him!" Ron started excitedly, his Omnioculars pressed hard against his face. Bryt fought back a laugh, focusing her own Ominoculars on the famous Seeker.

Krum looked much older than eighteen, with a thin build—the usual build of a quick and maneuverable Seeker. Shallow-skinned with dark hair and a hooked nose, Bryt thought he looked more like a humanoid bird than an actual person.

"And now, please greet—the Irish National Quidditch Team! Presenting—Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaand _Lynch_!"

Bryt cheered and screamed as the green-robed team flew across the field. She was clapping and jumping too much to think about using her Omnioculars.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A small wizard in gold robes came out onto the field. Bryt focused her Omnioculars on him and began giggling, unable to describe his appearance as anything other than 'a real-life Mr. Monopoly'. The man put down the large chest he was carrying before he mounted his broom and kicked the chest open, causing the four Quidditch balls to fly into the air.

"Theeeey're off!" Bacman called as Mostafa blew his whistle, "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

Bryt could barely keep up with the passing Quaffle, her head jerking back and forth with her Omnioculars, trying to follow the action. She didn't have time to focus on a player before the Quaffle was passed again and Bryt couldn't tell how Bagman could tell which player had the Quaffle, let alone at the time to shout out their name before a pass was made. Barely five minutes into the game, one of the Irish players made a shot for the goals and—

"TROY SCORES!" Bagman screamed over the roar of cheers, "Ten-zero to Ireland!"

Bryt screamed and jumped up and down, punching her Omnioculars in the air in celebration, laughing brightly.

Harry was saying something nearby, but Bryt couldn't hear over the screaming. She managed to hear Hermione's reply, though, as she told Harry that he'd miss things if he didn't keep his Omnioculars at normal speed.

Bryt knew better than to try that, as she was barely keeping up with the match as it was. Most of what was in front of her was a constant blur of reds and greens up and down the field with a mixture of Bludgers and a Quaffle flying around.

Barely ten minutes into the game, the score had reached thirty-zero to Ireland. Bryt cheered and jumped, though after that the match seemed to grow even more violent, making the Gryffindor-Slytherin match of the past school year seem like a friendly game of pat-a-cake.

The Irish Chasers had scattered and regrouped several times in the span of a couple of minutes due to the constant attack of the Bulgarian Beaters, sending Bludgers towards them. Not long after, Bulgaria made their first score.

"Fingers in your ears!" Mr. Weasley yelled.

"Huh?" Bryt called back, but soon realized what Mr. Weasley was talking about. The veela had stood up and began dancing again. Bryt glanced next to her and noticed Ron had his hands clamped tightly over his ears, glaring up above him at the Quidditch match, as if determined not to be distracted. Bryt couldn't help but laugh at the look on his face.

"Dimitrov!" Bagman was calling as the match continued, "Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova—oh, I say!"

Bryt spun her Omnioculars towards what had caused the commotion. Krum and Lynch, the Irish Seeker, were diving towards the ground, Krum a little ahead. Bryt's heart started racing as they got closer and closer with no sign that either were going to pull up.

"They're going to crash!" Hermione screamed, looking pale. Bryt jumped up, leaning over the edge of the Top Box to try and get a better look.

At the last possible second, Krum managed to pull out of the dive and fly off along the ground. Lynch hadn't been as lucky, though, slamming into the ground with a sickening thud that echoed around the stadium. Bryt winced, making a face as she stayed leaning over the edge as groans echoed from the Ireland fans.

"It's time-out!" Bagman called, "as trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!"

"He'll be okay, he only got ploughed!" Charlie said nearby, "Which is what Krum was after, of course..."

"Wasn't that the Wronski Feint?" Bryt asked, looking at Ron next to her, referring to a dangerous Seeker move where the Seeker went into a dive, pretending to see the Snitch, to try and pull out of it and cause the second Seeker to crash into the ground.

"Bloody brilliant!" Ron said with a nod, looking up towards Krum, who was circling the field, obviously using the time out to search for the Snitch.

Bryt kept her gaze on the field below, watching as the mediwizards trying to get Lynch back to his feet. Slowly, the man stood up and remounted his broom, kicking off back into the air. Ireland supporters erupted into cheers as the team seemed to get a second wind. Once the game started back, the Ireland Chasers seemed to be moving even faster than before and Bryt was having a much harder time keeping up with the action.

In fact, Ireland seemed to be scoring once a minute as it wasn't long before the score was one hundred and thirty to ten. As the gap in the score grew, so did the level of dirty playing. One of the Ireland Chasers was heading for the goal posts, the Quaffle under his arm, when he was intercepted by the Bulgarian Keeper. Whatever happened did so far too fast for Bryt to see clearly, but the Ireland fans erupted into angry shouts and Mostafa blew on his whistle.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing—excessive use of elbows!" Bagman called, "And—yes, it's penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns had jumped up, forming the words 'Ha ha ha!' Bryt laughed at it, then laughed more over Ron's face as he stuck his hands over his ears when the veela began dancing in response to the leprechauns' taunt.

"Look at the referee!" Hermione suddenly called, giggling hard.

Bryt leaned over the edge of the Top Box, then began laughing harder. Mostafa was standing in front of the veela, smoothing his mustache and trying to show of non-existent muscles.

"Now we can't have that!" Bagman said, sounding overly amused over the situation, "Somebody slap the referee!"

One of the mediwizards ran out, keeping his own ears covered, and kicked Mostafa in the leg. Once the referee came to his senses, he seemed to start yelling at the veela. Bryt lifted her Omnioculars, zooming in on the situation below. Red-faced, Mostafa continued to yell at the veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking as if they were ready to kill.

Seconds later, the Bulgarian Beaters landed nearby, yelling at the referee, and the match above seemed to have been forgotten by all. The Beaters began pointing over towards the leprechauns and Bryt glanced over to see they were forming the words 'hee hee hee' now. Mostafa ignored their arguments, yelling something as he pointed upward, obviously wanting the men to get back to the game. They refused and the referee blew twice on his whistle.

"_Two_ penalties for Ireland!" Bagman called, which the Bulgarian crowd reacted to in anger, "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms...yes...there they go...and Troy takes the Quaffle..."

Bryt didn't think the match could get more violent than it already was, but she was wrong. Volkov and Vulchanov were swinging their bats, not seeming to care what they hit with it, and one of the Bulgarian Chasers flew at the Irish Chaser currently with the Quaffle, nearly knocking her from her broom.

"FOUL!" Bryt screamed, along with practically every Ireland supporter in the stadium.

"Foul!" Bagman echoed, "Dimitrov skins Moran—deliberately flying to collide there—and it's go to be another penalty—yes, there's the whistle!"

"Honestly!" Hermione said hotly as the leprechauns formed a giant hand performing a rude gesture towards the veela.

The veela's response was frightening. Bryt stared through her Omnioculars as the women launched themselves across the field, hurling balls of fire towards the leprechauns. They had lost their elegant beauty as well, now having bird-like faces with long, sharp beaks and scaly wings spreading from their backs.

"Remind me to never make a veela angry," Bryt called over the shouting of fans as she turned her Omnioculars upwards, focusing her attention back on the match. The Quaffle was changing hands so quickly, flying from person to person, that Bryt couldn't help but compare it to the speed that a Quodpot match was played. Though in Quodpot, the fast pace was from not wanting the ball to explode in one's face. This Quidditch match, the speed was all about not wanting to be holding the Quaffle too long and become target of an attack from the opposing team.

"Levski—Dimitrov—Moran—Troy—Mullet—Ivanova—Moran again—Moran—MORAN SCORES!"

Bryt screamed and jumped up and down, cheering with the rest of the Irish supporters. It wasn't long before the match was back at its fast pace, the Quaffle passing from one player to another.

One of the Irish Beaters slammed his bat hard into a Bludger, sending it flying across the field—and hitting Viktor Krum right in the face. Bryt winced, sucking in her breath as almost every witch and wizard in the stadium let out an echoing groan. Bryt focused her Omnioculars on Krum and felt a wave of nausea at how bloody his face looked. She couldn't help but wonder if his nose had been broken during that hit, and wouldn't be surprised at all if it was. Bryt looked around, hoping someone'd notice Krum's injury, but she noticed the referee was currently distracted with trying to put out a fire that had started on the tail of his broom—most likely caused by one of the veela.

"Time-out!" Ron screamed from next to Bryt, obviously just as worried with Krum as Bryt was, "Ah, come on, he can't play like that, look at him—"

"_Look at Lynch!_" Harry cut in, pointing towards the Ireland team's Seeker.

Bryt turned with her Omnioculars, realizing Lynch had suddenly gone into a fast dive towards the ground, his hand outstretched.

"He's seen the Snitch!" Harry continued, "He's seen it! Look at him go!"

"Go, Lynch, go!" Bryt screamed, jumping up and down again, which caused her to have trouble keeping her Omnioculars focused on the Seeker. Seconds later, Krum came into view, catching up to Lynch, despite the blood over his face that Bryt was sure would have impaired his vision.

"C'mon, Lynch!" Bryt screamed again, gripping her Omnioculars tight enough that her hands were going numb.

"They're going to crash!" Hermione called, her voice high and shrill.

"They're not!" Ron and Julio chorused.

"Lynch is!" Harry answered.

As Harry predicted, Lynch slammed into the ground hard. Before he could even get up, the veela pounced on him, determined to take out their anger out on the poor Seeker.

"Ouch," Bryt whispered, wincing at the sight, forcing herself to look away, deciding to try and find Krum.

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" Charlie called out.

"He's got it—" Harry answered, "Krum's got it—it's all over!"

Bryt turned and saw Harry was right. Krum, bloodied face and all, was high in the air, his hand gripped tightly around the Snitch, which he has holding up over his head. The game was over, the final score one hundred and seventy to one hundred and sixty, Ireland winning. It seemed to take a while for the realization to dawn in the crowd, but slowly, the Irish supporters grew louder and louder. Bryt screamed and jumped up and down, laughing and hugging Ron tightly next to her, only to get shoved away with a glare. Bryt ignored the glare, continuing to jump and cheer.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted over the screaming of fans, "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH—BUT IRELAND WINS—good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Ron yelled, still jumping and clapping himself, "He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"

"He knew they were never going to catch up!" Harry called back, "The Irish Chasers were too good...He wanted to end the game on his terms, that's all..."

"Gotta respect that!" Bryt said, leaning over the edge of the Top Box with Hermione to get a better look at the Quidditch player far below, where mediwizards were rushing towards him.

"He looks a terrible mess..." Hermione commented.

"Don' worry, the mediwizards'll fix him up good," Julio called over the crowd, grinning reassuringly at Hermione.

Bryt tried to make out what was happening below, but it was hard to see through the celebrating leprechauns zooming back and forth across the field. Bryt could barely make out the Bulgarians grouped together with the veela slowly returning to normal, looking disappointed, while the Irish were dancing around in the rain of gold coins.

"Vell, ve fought bravely."

Bryt turned to see who spoke and realized it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

"You can speak English!" Fudge shouted, "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Vell, it vos very funny," the Bulgarian Minister said with a shrug. Bryt started giggling.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, flanked by heir mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" Bagman called over the cheering.

Bryt winced, throwing her hand over her eyes to shade them against the sudden bright light that lit up the Top Box. Bryt squinted, pushing herself up on her knees in her seat to see over the people behind her, trying to focus on Fudge nearby, who was taking a large, golden trophy from two tired-looking wizards.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers—Bulgaria!"

Polite applause echoed through the stadium as the Bulgarian Quidditch Team came into the Top Box. Bagman re-introduced each one as they shook hands with the two Ministers of Magic. Bryt noticed Krum's injuries were as bad as they had seemed from a distance—a black eye forming over each eye and blood still covering his face. Still gripping the Snitch in one hand, Krum seemed to be unsteady on ground, much like someone who was walking on land again after spending weeks out on the sea. Still, Krum had the loudest applause yet as his name was called.

Next was the Irish team. Their Seeker being supported by who of their Chasers, as he seemed dazed and had an odd grin on his face that, for some reason, reminded Bryt of Gilderoy Lockhart after the memory charm had backfired on him a over a year before.

Loud cheering echoed through the stadium again as the team lifted the Quidditch World Cup over their heads before leaving the Top Box for another victory lap(with Lynch riding double with another of the players).

"_Quietus_," Bagman said, pointing his wand at his throat again and then continued in a normal-volume voice, though he sounded hoarse, "They'll be talking about this one for years. A real unexpected twist, that...Shame it couldn't have lasted longer...Ah, yes...Yes, I owe you...how much?"

Bryt looked over as Fred and George pushed their way over to Bagman, both grinning eagerly and holding out their hands. Bryt laughed, turning to her friends.

"I can't believe they actually won that bet," she said, reaching down and grabbing her small backpack, a thought suddenly dawning on her, "Oh, damn it..."

"What?" Julio asked, looking at Bryt with a confused expression.

"I was plannin' on takin' pictures of the match," Bryt said as she straightened up and slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder, "Y'know, for Mike, Drew, and Terry."

"I don't think you would have gotten any good pictures anyway," Ron said, "Not at the speed those players were going."

"Yeah, you're right," Bryt replied with a sigh, "Oh well. They'll just have to deal with me tellin' them what happened. It was definitely a match to remember."

With that, Bryt stretched before following along with her friends towards the stairs leading out of the Top Box.

**-----**

**A/N:** So, so sorry for such a long hiatus. First I was hit with a very nasty sinus infection that had me out of it for a few weeks, and once I was over that I was simply in a writer's slump, having no desire to write at all. I hope a nice, long Quidditch chapter makes up for it, but as I've probably mentioned before, Quidditch is my writer's-kryptonite. Plus, this chapter in _Goblet of Fire_ didn't give much description from the match for me to play with. It was extremely hard to keep from copying straight from the book.


	10. Chaos

Bryt was practically bouncing as she headed down the stairs with her friends, which caused her to nearly trip several times until Mr. García told her to settle down. Bryt would have complied, but adrenaline from the excitement of the match kept Bryt from being able to stay still too long.

It was difficult navigating through the crowd of people, but the group eventually made it back to the Weasley tent. As no one was tired, Mr. Weasley offered for a cup of cocoa all around and Mr. García agreed, allowing for Julio, Hermione, and Bryt to stay with the Weasleys for a little longer. It wasn't long before they were in arguments over the best part of the game.

Mr. García and Mr. Weasley were currently in an argument with Charlie over the fouls while Bryt, Harry, Julio, and Ron were disagreeing over whether Krum's catching the Snitch or his successful Wronski Feint was the best move in the game. Both of their arguments were cut short when they heard a thump and looked over to see Ginny was asleep sitting up, her mug having fallen to the floor.

Bryt was tired herself, her adrenaline wearing off fast. Ready for bed, she stood up with Julio, Hermione, and Mr. García. The four bade Harry and the Weasleys a good night before heading out of the tent.

Ready for sleep, the hike across the field seemed long, especially with the fact that the four had to weave through celebrating witches and wizards who were singing, dancing, and sending off loud bangs from their wands as Ministry workers kept trying to keep the commotion under control.

"I'd hate to have their jobs," Mr. García commented as they finally reached their tent. The four changed into their pajamas before crawling into their beds.

Though exhausted, Bryt couldn't get to sleep right away. After a couple of minutes, she leaned over the edge of the cot, flipping open her bag. She pulled out her diary and wand, lighting the tip with a quiet _lumos_, then began writing about the Quidditch match. Once done, Bryt put away her diary and laid her wand on the nightstand after putting out the spell. She rolled over and yanked the covers up to her chin, closing her eyes to try and go to sleep.

The singing and cheering outside wasn't helping. Bryt squeezed her eyes tighter shut, cursing under her breath at the noisy witches and wizards outside. She was tired, she needed to get to sleep, but the noise was echoing around the tent far too loudly.

Bryt pulled her pillow over her head to drown out the noise, which helped, or it could have been Bryt's sheer exhaustion that finally won out. Either way, Bryt was soon drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**xxxxx**

"Bryt! Hermione! Get up now!"

Bryt groaned, yanking the covers over her head. She felt like she had just fallen asleep. After fighting so much to get to that stage, the last thing she wanted to do was get up again.

"Hurry up girls!"

"Bryt! Hermione!"

A chilling scream came from somewhere on the other side of the campgrounds. Bryt jerked upright in her cot, knowing something was wrong. She looked over to see Hermione sitting up in her bed as well and Julio appeared in the doorway, looking pale, which was a sharp contrast against his dark hair. That just made Bryt even more worried.

"Good, yer up," Julio said, "Grab yer jackets, we gotta go."

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked as she reached for her jacket, but Julio had already left again.

"I don't like this," Bryt said grabbing her own jacket, pulling it on over her pajamas, her heart racing as she heard more screams in the distance. She grabbed her wand from the nightstand, following Hermione out of the tent where Julio was arguing with his father. More screams and odd bangs were coming from a distance and people were running towards the woods, some carrying small children in their arms.

Bryt looked over at Hermione, who looked as terrified as Bryt was feeling. Clutching her jacket tighter around her and ignoring how cold her bare feet felt, Bryt looked over at Julio and Mr. García standing near them.

"I wanna—"

"_No_," Mr. García cut Julio off, "Get Hermione and Bryt into the woods and _stay there_."

"But I can help—"

"It's too dangerous, I'm not going to let you near this."

"But—"

"_¡Ahora! ¡No discuta!_" Mr. García ordered, pointing off.

Julio gave a reluctant nod, obviously not wanting to leave his father alone in whatever Mr. García was planning to do. Slowly, Julio turned and grabbed Hermione's hand before running off, his free hand gripping his wand.

"What's goin' on?" Bryt asked, running behind them, struggling to keep up with her friends' long strides.

"I dunno," Julio replied, "Somethin' bad. Dad's goin' to try and help."

"What about Harry and Ron? And the rest of the Weasleys?" Bryt asked, "We've gotta go find them."

"They're closer to the woods," Julio replied, "They would've ran into the trees already."

"We should still check their tent!"

"Bryt, they won't be there!" Julio shot back, "We _have_ to get into the woods!"

Praying Julio was right about Harry and the Weasleys, Bryt continued to run along behind her friends. As they neared the woods, someone shoved into Bryt, sending her into the ground. Her wand went sliding across the ground and Bryt pushed herself up to her hands and knees, crawling over and reaching over to grab it. Someone running past stepped on Bryt's hand just as she grabbed her wand, causing her to scream out in surprise, jerking back. Breathing hard, Bryt flexed her hand, glad to find that it didn't seem that injured, and grabbed wand before she managed to get herself to her feet again, trying to see where Hermione and Julio were. Seeing neither, Bryt's breath caught, her heart pounding harder and she gripped her wand tightly, looking around in panic, trying to get her bearings in the chaos of witches and wizards running past her.

Bryt heard a loud bang and laughter and she turned to see where it was coming from. What she saw caused her breath to catch and a cold, sickening feeling to rush through her entire body.

Coming across the field were a group of black-cloaked men in masks, their wands held over their heads, laughing and gathering a ever-increasing group of followers. What chilled Bryt the most was the fact that levitating above the masked men were four figures high in the air over them and Bryt could easily see that two of them were small children. Even worse was the fact that the four seemed very much aware of their situation. As the woman was flipped upside down, her nightgown moving over her head and revealing her underwear, the woman struggled with trying to cover herself up again. This only gained more laughs from the men below.

'_Oh God...Oh God...'_ Bryt thought, her mind screaming at her to run, but she couldn't. She seemed paralyzed, unable to look away from the men marching closer and closer. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest and her entire body was shaking hard from fear.

More people pushed passed her, knocking Bryt from side to side, which seemed to jerk Bryt from the hypnotic hold she had been under. The laughing and loud bangs grew closer and Bryt turned away, determined not to look behind her again. She stumbled forward moving at more of a half-run at first, but finally pushed into a full sprint in a desperate attempt to get into the woods nearby. Bryt didn't pay any attention to where she was going. She knew she just had to keep moving. She had to get further into the woods. Further away from the men in masks.

Bryt didn't stop once she was in the shelter of trees. She couldn't, not with the chance the masked men could still follow anyone into the woods. She barely registered the startled yells as she pushed past people, continuing to blindly run, occasionally having to dodge a low tree branch at the last moment or jump over a fallen trunk. She had lost balance or had to untangle her pants leg from bushes several times, but she always pushed forward and kept running afterwards. She couldn't stop. As long as she kept running, she could be safe.

Bryt had no idea how long she had been running, just that she was finally forced to stop as her foot caught on under a root, sending her forward into the ground. Bryt let out a scream of pain as she rolled over slightly, breathing heavily and shaking from exhaustion, and noticed her bare foot tangled between some upturned roots. Cursing under her breath, Bryt pocketed her wand and struggled to finally free her foot, which was throbbing with pain. She got it loose before shakily pushing herself up, determined to keep going despite the fact that her body was aching and sore. She barely got to a crouch, though, when she put weight on her injured foot and let out another cry of pain, collapsing to the ground again.

Breathing heavily, Bryt gripped at her ankle and swallowed hard, fighting off the urge to throw up. Trying to ignore her trembling and pounding heart, Bryt strained to hear if anyone was approaching. She pulled her wand back out again, unable to move from her spot, and scanned the trees, hoping and praying none of the masked men showed up. She knew she had to look like a very easy target—slouched on the ground, injured, unable to run, too weak and exhausted to fight anyone off...

'_Please, don't come this way...'_ Bryt thought, still watching around her.

She still couldn't get the image of the poor family floating through the air, struggling against the hold over them. Though now the images were morphing into her and her friends and family being trapped in the air while the masked men laughed. Bryt shook her head hard, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to get rid of the images. Still, all-too-familiar faces kept floating in front of her, terror-stricken as they were spun in the air and taunted.

'_Stop thinkin' about it...'_ Bryt thought, _'It won't happen...They won't find you out here...'_

But she still didn't know where her friends were. Harry, Ron, Julio, Hermione, the rest of the Weasleys...They were all somewhere out there. They might run into trouble. Or maybe Dean and Seamus, or any of the other Hogwarts students she knew that had come to see the Quidditch World Cup. Any one of them could get hurt...Run across those masked men...

'_No, they're smart,'_ Bryt thought, shaking her head, taking shaky, deep breaths,_'They'll find somewhere to hide, get into the woods.'_

Mr. García wouldn't. He had run towards the men, to try and help the Ministry wizards. Bryt had a feeling Mr. Weasley would have gone to help as well. Either one of them could end up seriously hurt...

'_No. They'll be fine. Mr. García will be fine. Mr. Weasley will be fine. They're adults. They know how to duel. How to take care of themselves.'_

But what if they weren't okay? What if they _did_ get hurt? Or worse?

'_Don't think about it, Bryt. It won't happen.'_

The sound of approaching footsteps and voices caused Bryt to jerk her head up again, pulling her from her mental argument. She looked around her and kept her wand out as she began shaking harder. She pulled off her lucky turquoise bracelet and gripped it in her right hand while she kept her left aiming her wand outward. She wanted to call out, ask who was coming, but her voice seemed to have abandoned her. Her heart was pounding hard enough that she could hear it in her ears and she was positive whoever was approaching would be able to hear it as well. Bryt held her breath, hoping whoever it was coming would simply be a fellow witch or wizard running from the masked men and not someone who would be there to hurt her.


	11. A Frightening Symbol

The footsteps grew closer and Bryt gripped her wand tighter, still holding her breath as she waited to see who was coming towards her.

'_Please, oh please let it be someone friendly...'_ Bryt begged silently.

It was. Harry and Ron, both still in their pajamas and wearing jackets, came into view, Ron with his wand out, giving off a faint light. Bryt laughed in relief, pushing herself up to run over to them. She barely got a step, though, before she collapsed again with a yell due to her injured ankle.

"Bryt! Are you okay?" Ron asked, an edge of panic in his voice as he and Harry rushed over to Bryt, squatting down in front of her.

Bryt took a shaky breath, starting to say something, but nothing would come. She swallowed hard and nodded, trembling slightly and fighting back a new wave of nausea from the pain rushing through her body.

"What happened?" Harry asked, "Where're Hermione and Julio?"

Bryt opened her mouth, then closed it again, shaking her head. Even with Harry and Ron here, knowing they were okay, she still couldn't stop picturing if it were one of them being spun in the air, or Hermione, Julio, his father, or any of the Weasleys. She couldn't get herself to speak with that running through her head, afraid her voice would give just how terrified she was...Not that her silence made it any better. Bryt swallowed hard, knowing she had to say something, if anything to help settle her friends' worries about her.

"We...We got separated..." she managed, her voice weak and breaking.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ron asked, "You couldn't stand earlier...What happened?"

Bryt pocketed her wand again and looked down at her ankle, which seemed to be swollen slightly. Bryt winced looking at it, despite the fact that she was growing used to the throbbing pain.

"I got caught in some roots," Bryt said, looking back at her friends, "It hurts like hell, but I think it's just twisted..."

"We'll get someone to look at it once we can go back to camp," Harry said.

Bryt nodded, her entire body feeling numb and weak as her trembling was finally beginning to stop. She knew it would probably be a long while before she'd have the strength to stand up again, and even if she did, she wouldn't be able to walk anytime soon.

A rustling noise came nearby and Harry, Ron, and Bryt all looked up, staring off into the dark. Bryt's heart started pounding even harder when she realized it was footsteps approaching. She kept hoping and praying that it was just another witch or wizard running from he men out on the fields, or maybe even a one of her friends still out in the woods.

The footsteps suddenly stopped, just out of the three's line of sight. Bryt squinted, holding her breath as she gripped her bracelet tighter in her hands, running her thumb over the rough stones.

"Hello?" Harry called, but was met with only silence.

"Who...Who's there?" Bryt called out, scanning the trees.

A voice came quickly, but it wasn't replying to Bryt. Instead, it seemed to be shouting some type of spell.

"_MORSMORDE_!"

Bryt closed her eyes for a second as a green light lit up the woods.

"What the—" Ron started and Bryt glanced up to notice he had jumped to his feet, staring at the sky. Bryt lifted her head up and gasped at what she saw.

Floating up far above the tree line was a giant skull with a snake for a tongue and seemed to be made of a tight collection of green stars. The sight of the image sent a sickening chill through Bryt, adding to her already nauseating trembles. All around them, screams of terror rose, seeming much worse than they had been before. Bryt went tense, gripping her bracelet tighter in her hands.

"I don't like this..." Bryt said, unable to look away from the green skull.

Suddenly, Bryt heard the distinctive pop of Disapparation. Looking around, Bryt saw several witches and wizards had formed a circle around them, each with their wands raised. Harry suddenly yelled 'duck' and Bryt obeyed without thinking. Twenty simultaneous "_Stupify_"s echoed around them and Bryt kept her eyes tightly shut, not wanting to think about the odd breeze ruffling her hair and the back of her jacket. She just kept gripping her bracelet tightly against her chest.

"Stop!" Mr. Weasley's voice cut through the noise, "STOP! _That's my son!_"

Bryt looked up after the spells stopped and noticed Mr. Weasley rushing forward, looking terrified. Bryt couldn't blame him—she herself was terrified at the moment.

"Ron—Harry—Bryt—are you all right?"

"Out of the way, Arthur," another voice came before any of the three could answer.

Mr. Crouch had arrived with the rest of the Ministry wizards. Bryt swallowed hard and looked along the crowd, hoping to see Mr. García, but then reminded herself that he wasn't part of the Ministry. He had most likely gone to find Julio and Hermione, expecting Bryt to be with them.

Harry stood up next to Bryt, but she knew she wouldn't be able to stand up with her injured ankle. She stayed sitting in the middle of the clearing next to Ron, staring at the witches and wizards around them.

"Which one of you did it?" Mr. Crouch glared at the three, his voice shaking with rage, "Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"

"We didn't do that!" Harry said, pointing to the skull above them.

"We didn't do anything!" Ron added, staring at Mr. Weasley, "What did you want to attack us for?"

"Do not lie!" Mr. Crouch yelled, looking almost insane and Bryt winced instinctively, "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

'_Crime?'_ Bryt thought, looking up at the skull above them, _'Is that thing really _that_ bad?'_

"Barty," a witch spoke up, "They're kids, Barty, they'd never be able to—"

"Where did the Mark come from, you three?" Mr. Weasley asked. Bryt looked between Ron and Harry, both of whom were looking along the trees.

"Somewhere over there, I think..." Ron finally said, pointing off, "It was sort-of hard to tell."

Though Mr. Crouch hadn't taken his gaze from Harry, Ron, and Bryt, the other Ministry wizards had turned in the direction Ron had pointed, aiming their wands into the trees.

"We're too late," the witch from earlier spoke up, "They'll have Disapparated."

"I don't think so," a wizard replied, "Our Stunners went right through those trees...There's a good chance we got them..."

"Amos, be careful!" several of the wizards called as the first disappeared between the trees nearby.

Bryt stared at the trees, taking several deep breaths. Though her trembling had completely stopped now, her heart was still racing and she still felt weak and as if she would throw up at any moment. She just wanted to get back to her tent and hide between her blankets, not moving for hours.

"Yes! We got them!" the wizard Amos called from within the woods, "There's someone here! Unconscious! It's—but—blimey..."

"You've got someone?" Mr. Crouch asked, but it tone made Bryt think that he didn't believe Amos, "Who? Who is it?"

After a few seconds, Amos returned to the clearing, carrying something small and obviously unconscious. Bryt gave a gasp, her eyes widening as she noticed the creature was Winky the house elf.

Every witch and wizard circled around them had turned to stare at Mr. Crouch—who was looking as if he been Petrified, unable to look away from his house elf. It was several moments after Winky was laid at Mr. Crouch's feet before the man spoke up again.

"This—cannot—be—no—"

Mr. Crouch pushed past them, disappearing into the woods where Amos had come from.

"No point, Mr. Crouch. There's no one else there."

Mr. Crouch seemed not to hear and Bryt could hear him moving about as if searching for something. Bryt couldn't imagine what the man thought he'd find in the bushes.

"Bit embarrassing," Amos said, staring at Winky, "Barty Crouch's house elf...I mean to say..."

"Come off it, Amos," Mr. Weasley said, "You don't seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark's a wizard sign. It requires a wand."

"Yeah. And she _had_ a wand."

"_What_?"

"Here, look," Amos said, holding up a wand, "Had it in her hand. So that's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken, for a start. _No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand_."

Bryt went tense, glaring at Amos. House elves weren't only kept as slaves, but weren't allowed to use wands? Bryt knew the elves didn't need a wand to do magic, but still thought it was cruel and insulting that they were outlawed from it all the same.

A loud pop echoed from nearby and Bryt looked over to see Bagman had Apparated next to Mr. Weasley. He seemed out of breath and looked as if he wasn't completely sure where he was. The way Bagman was turning on the spot and looking ragged, Bryt couldn't help but wonder if the man was in shock.

"The Dark Mark!" Bagman suddenly cried when he finally looked up, then began wildly looking around and stumbled towards the nearest Ministry wizard, "Who did it? Did you get them? Barty! What's going on?"

Mr. Crouch had come back, looking even worse than he had before.

"Where have you been, Barty?" Bagman asked when Mr. Crouch didn't answer his first question, "Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat, too—" The mention of Winky seemed to suddenly make Bagman aware of the house elf on the ground nearby. "Gulping gargoyles! What happened to _her_?"

"I have been very busy, Ludo," Mr. Crouch said, "And my elf has been stunned."

"Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why—?" Bagman cut off as it seemed to dawn on him what the situation was as he kept looking between Winky and the skull high above them.

'_He really must be in shock,'_ Bryt thought, staring at Bagman, _'How else can he be so clueless?'_

"Winky?" Bagman turned to Mr. Crouch, "Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn't know how! She'd need a wand, for a start!"

"And she had one," Amos said, "I found her holding one, Ludo. If it's all right with you, Mr. Crouch, I think we should hear what she's got to say for herself."

'_At least _someone's_ bein' sensible,'_ Bryt thought. She had believed that these witches and wizards would consider Winky guilty just on the fact she was a house elf and leave it at that.

When Mr. Crouch didn't reply, Amos seemed to take the silence as an agreement. He pulled out his wand, pointed it at Winky, and said "_Ennervate_."

Winky stirred slowly, opening her large eyes and blinking, seeming dazed. The house elf sat up, then seemed to notice Amos in front of her and looked up at him, then further up to the sky. Winky gasped, looking around her before breaking down crying. Bryt gripped her bracelet tighter in her hands, feeling bad for Winky. She couldn't imagine how terrified the house elf had to be at the moment.

"Elf!" Amos said, as if scolding a pet, "Do you know who I am? I am a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!"

Bryt went tense, glaring at Amos. How could he speak so rudely to Winky when the poor elf was obviously so terrified?

"As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago. And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!"

Bryt gripped her bracelet so tightly that the stones were pressing hard into her skin. It seemed she had been right the first time. Amos had seemed to already decide that Winky was guilty. Bryt was sure that the only reason Amos was questioning Winky now was so he could get a confession.

"I—I—I is not doing it, sir!" Winky cried out, "I is not knowing how, sir!"

"You were found with a wand in your hand!" Amos snapped, swinging the wand in front of Winky's face.

"Hey—that's mine!"

Bryt looked up to see Harry had stepped forward, staring at the wand on Amos's hand.

"Excuse me?" Amos asked, staring at Harry with an odd expression.

"That's my wand! I dropped it!"

"You dropped it?" Amos asked sharply, "Is this a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Mark?"

"Amos, think who you're talking about!" Mr. Weasley said loudly, "Is _Harry Potter_ likely to conjure the Dark Mark?"

"Er—of course not," Amos said, sounding almost embarrassed, "Sorry...carried away..."

"I didn't drop it there, anyway," Harry said, nodding towards where Amos found Winky, "I missed it right after we got into the woods."

Amos turned back to Winky at that, glaring at her. Bryt bit down on her tongue to keep quiet, not liking at all the way Amos had been treating Winky.

"So," Amos said harshly, "You found the wand, eh, elf?"

'_Her name is Winky,'_ Bryt thought, glaring at Amos, fighting hard to keep from speaking up, _'Not 'elf'.'_

"And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, did you?" Amos continued.

"I is not doing magic with it, sir!" Winky said in a high-pitched voice, even for her, tears running down her face, "I is...I is...I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir, I is not knowing how!"

"It can't have been her!" Bryt finally had enough, unable to hold back her anger, ignoring that everyone in the clearing was looking at her now, "Winky didn't do this. Besides, the person we heard was obviously a human! A guy!"

"Exactly," Harry added, "It definitely wasn't an elf."

"Well, we'll soon see," Amos said, staring at Bryt with a look that showed he didn't believe them, as he turned back to Winky, "There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?"

Winky shook her head so quickly that her ears flapped outward from the force. Amos had pulled out his own wand, resting its tip against Harry's.

"_Prior Incantano_!"

Bryt swallowed hard as a smoky-gray copy of the snake-tongued skull came from the end of Harry's wand, hovering above its tip like a ghostly echo. Bryt shuddered slightly. She didn't know anything about the symbol above their heads other than it was something that was causing a lot of distress among the wizarding community. Just from that, Bryt couldn't imagine if someone had used _her_ wand to cast the spell.

"So," Amos said as he ended the spell, looking back at Winky and had a smile on his face that caused Bryt to suck in her breath and bite down on her tongue again to keep quiet.

"I is not doing it!" Winky cried, her voice breaking due to how hard she was shaking, as if she had been out in a snowstorm, "I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!"

"_You've been caught red-handed, elf!_" Amos yelled and Bryt winced in instinct, gripping her bracelet harder, "_Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!_"

Bryt opened her mouth to protest, but Mr. Weasley had spoken up first.

"Amos," he said, "Think about it...Precious few wizards know how to do that spell...Where would she have learned it?"

"Perhaps Amos is suggesting that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?" Mr. Crouch said coldly.

'_Slaves, not servants,'_ Bryt corrected, but didn't say it out loud. Not with the unsettling silence that had fallen over the clearing.

"Mr. Crouch..." Amos started, looking almost terrified now, "Not...Not at all..."

"You have now come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are the least likely to conjure that Mark! Harry Potter—and myself! I suppose you are familiar with this boy's story, Amos?"

"Of course—everyone knows—"

"And I trust you remember the many proofs I've given," Mr. Crouch cut in, his voice rising, "Over a long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them?"

"Mr. Crouch, I—I never suggested you had anything to do with it!"

"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory! Where else would she have learned to conjure it?"

'_Diggory?'_ Bryt thought, staring at the man, recognizing the name from one of her schoolmates at Hogwarts, _'As in Cedric Diggory's father?'_

"She—she might've picked it up anywhere—" Amos Diggory started, sinking back slightly.

"Precisely, Amos. _She might have picked it up anywhere_...Winky?" Mr. Weasley turned towards the elf, speaking in a soft, kind tone, but Winky still flinched, "Where exactly did you find Harry's wand?"

"I—I is finding it...finding it there, sir..." Winky said quietly, nodding to the trees as she twisted the end of her tea cozy in her hands, "There...In the trees, sir..."

"You see, Amos?" Mr. Weasley turned back to Mr. Diggory, "Whoever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving Harry's wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up."

Bryt was glad that Mr. Weasley was defending Winky. She had always liked the man, and she couldn't imagine him being harsh to anyone—Mr. Malfoy excluded, of course.

"But then," Mr. Diggory seemed to regain himself and spun towards Winky again, "She'd have been only a few feet away from the real culprit! Elf? Did you see anyone?"

'_Winky! Her name is _Winky_!'_ Bryt thought, gripping her bracelet tightly and fighting hard not to yell at the man.

"I is seeing no one, sir..." Winky managed, shaking harder than ever, if that were possible, "No one..."

"Amos," Mr. Crouch said, "I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with her."

Mr. Diggory didn't seem to like the idea, and neither did Bryt considering how Mr. Crouch treated Winky. Still, this would be the better outcome for Winky. She wouldn't have to be taken to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Dangerous Creatures.

"You may rest assured that she will be punished," Mr. Crouch said simply.

"Punished?" Bryt asked, glaring, "She didn't do anythin' wrong!"

Mr. Crouch looked down at Bryt, meeting her glare with one of his own.

"I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master—"

"Slave, not servant!" Bryt snapped, just to have Ron's hand shoved over her mouth. Bryt glared at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Well, I think I should take my lot back to the tents," Mr. Weasleys said quickly, stepping forward as Mr. Crouch's face went an odd shade of purple as he stared at Bryt with a harsh glare, "Amos, that wand's told us all it can—if Harry can have it back, please—"

Mr. Diggory handed over Harry's wand, giving Bryt an odd look as Ron helped the blonde to her feet. She gripped onto Ron's arm like a crutch, though, slipping her bracelet back on and keeping her injured foot off of the ground.

"Come on, you three," Mr. Weasley said, ushering them from the clearing. Bryt was just about to ask about Winky, and how Mr. Diggory and Mr. Crouch could treat the elf in such a way, when Mr. Weasley turned back to her.

"What happened with your ankle?" he asked.

"I got it caught in some roots," Bryt said, hopping slightly on her good foot while she readjusted her grip on Ron's arm, "I dunno how bad I hurt it."

"Well, we can take a look when we're back at the camp," Mr. Weasley said, "Until then, you shouldn't move it more than you have to." Mr. Weasley turned to Ron, "Do you think you can carry her the rest of the way?"

"What?" Bryt and Ron chorused.

"You don't need to risk falling or hurting your ankle more, Bryt," Mr. Weasley said.

Both teens groaned and tried to argue, but eventually gave in and let Ron hoist Bryt on his back piggy-back style, his arms anchored around her legs and Bryt gripping Ron around the shoulders.

"You're heavy," Ron said with a grunt. Bryt hit him in the back of the head in response.

"What happened to the others?" Mr. Weasley asked once they had started off again. Once again, this kept Bryt from asking about what would happen to Winky.

"I got separated from Julio and Hermione before even gettin' to the trees," Bryt said, "Ron and Harry found me a little after I messed up my ankle."

"And Harry and I got separated from everyone in the dark," Ron said, "Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?"

"I'll explain everything back at the tent," Mr. Weasley replied.

"What about Winky, though?" Bryt asked, "What's gonna happen to her?"

"I don't know."

"I can't believe how they were treatin' her," Bryt sighed, "They were actin' like she was a thing, not a person! They were heartless!"

"Bryt, I agree, but now is not the time to argue house elf rights," Mr. Weasley cut in, "I just want to get back to the tent."

When they reached the edge of the woods, a large group of witches and wizards were waiting already. They seemed to push forward all at the same time when Mr. Weasley came up.

"What's going on in there?"

"Who conjured it?"

"Arthur—it's not—_Him_?"

"Of course it's not Him," Mr. Weasley replied, "We don't know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to go to bed."

Mr. Weasley led Harry and Ron, which Bryt in tow, back into the field. Bryt looked around, an eerie feeling overcoming her as she noticed how quiet it was. The only sign that anything had been wrong were a few collapsed tents that had been set on fire. Bryt swallowed, hoping that the tent she was staying in was still intact, only for the fact that her diary was in there. It was the only thing she couldn't bare to lose.

"Dad," Charlie said as they got closer to the Weasley tent, "Fred, George and Ginny got back okay, and Mr. García is here with Julio and Hermione, but—"

"I've got the others," Mr. Weasley said, ducking into the tent, Harry following behind.

"Ron, put me down," Bryt said before Ron could follow.

"What?" Ron asked, "Bryt, you heard Dad. You don't need to risk hurting your ankle more."

"It's only a few feet. I'm not lettin' you carry me into that tent."

"Bryt, don't be stubborn—"

"Fred and George," Bryt cut in. Ron seemed to get the message because it wasn't even a second before he replied.

"Right," he said, "You're walking."

Ron squatted down, helping Bryt off his back, but let her hold onto his arm in support as she hopped her way into the Weasley tent, moving over to the nearest chair and sitting down slowly. Mr. García immediately came over, wanting to check over Bryt's ankle to make sure she was okay. While talking with him, Bryt couldn't concentrate on everyone else's conversation.

After a minute, Mr. García said that it seemed Bryt's ankle was just sprained, and it seemed like it was a minor sprain at that.

"I'm not very good at healing spells, though," Mr. García admitted.

"That's okay," Bryt said, "You said it ain't a bad sprain. I can just wrap it and let it heal naturally."

"It'll still take at least two weeks. You'll be back at Hogwarts by then."

"Again, it's okay. I don't need my foot to cast spells, and I've sprained my ankle before. I know I'll be able to walk on it before I get to Hogwarts. I'll just have to be careful."

Mr. García sighed, obviously too tired to argue with Bryt any further.

"Fine, I'll wrap it for you when we get back to our tent. I have some bandages there."

Bryt nodded, turning back to the others just as Ron asked about the symbol that had been shot into the sky and why everyone had seemed so panicked over it.

"It's You-Know-Who's symbol," Hermione was the one to answer, "I read about it in _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_."

"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," Mr. Weasley added in a quiet voice, "Of course people panicked...It was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again."

"I understand the Mark is bad," Bryt said, "But why is it _that_ bad?"

"You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed. The terror it inspired...you have no idea. Just picture coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside..." Mr. Weasley winced at the thought. "Everyone's worst fear...The very worst..."

Bryt swallowed as an uneasy silence fell over the group. Bryt began thinking of the Dark Mark in the sky, shuddering at the thought of what it must have been like thirteen years ago...Coming home from a day at work to see that symbol over your house and knowing one or more of your family members were dead inside...

"Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it," Bill spoke up from where he was checking a cut on his arm, "It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertses before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."

'_Thank God,'_ Bryt thought. She didn't like the idea of modifying one's memory mostly, but after a night like this one, it would be better for the family if they didn't remember.

"Death Eaters?" Harry asked, "What are Death Eaters?"

"It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves," Bill answered, "I think we saw what's left of them tonight—the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway."

"We can't prove it was them, Bill," Mr. Weasley said, "Though it probably was."

"Yeah, I bet it was!" Ron suddenly spoke up, "Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who!"

"But what were Voldemort's supporters—" Everyone aside from Bryt winced as Harry brought up Voldemort's name. "Sorry. What were You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?"

"The point?" Mr. Weasley asked with an odd-sort of laugh, "Harry, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them."

"Why'd they run when the Dark Mark went up, then?" Bryt asked, "I mean, they're Volde—er...You-Know-Who's supporters, right? Wouldn't they be glad to see the Mark?"

"If they really were Death Eaters, they'd worked very hard to stay out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power," Bill said, "And told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied they'd ever been involved with him when he lost his powers, and went back to their daily lives...I don't reckon he'd be over-pleased with them, do you?"

"No, probably not," Bryt said, letting what Bill said sink it.

"So..." Hermione started from where she was sitting next to Julio, still gripping onto his hand in comfort, "Whoever conjured the Dark Mark...Were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters—"

"Or to scare them away?" Julio finished Hermione's train of thought.

"Your guess is as good as ours," Mr. Weasley said, "But I tell you this...It was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Death Eater once, even if they're not now...Listen, it's very late." Mr. Weasley looked around at his children. "And if your mother hears what's happened she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours of sleep and then try to get an early Portkey out of here."

Bidding everyone a goodnight again, Bryt left with the García men and Hermione, Julio carrying Bryt piggy-back. Once back at the García tent(which Bryt was relieved to see was completely intact), Mr. García wrapped Bryt's ankle in bandages, then the four of them crawled back into their beds where Bryt, despite all that had happened, was asleep almost instantly.


	12. To the Burrow

Though Bryt had fallen asleep quickly, she hadn't stayed asleep. The Dark Mark and the Roberts floating in the air haunted her dreams, which often had the Robertses suddenly becoming Bryt's own family, or the Grangers or Garcías, or any other Muggle family, or Muggleborn, Bryt knew. She tossed and turned, which would cause her injured foot to hit hard on the cot and wake Bryt up with a dull pain going up her leg.

The lack of sleep made Bryt grateful when Mr. García called for them to wake up, but also left her far more tired than she had been when she went to bed hours earlier. Bryt and Hermione dressed as quickly as they could and Bryt grabbed her bag before hopping from the tent with Hermione's help, careful not to put any weight on her injured ankle(as she knew she would need to stay off of it completely for at least a couple of days).

Like most of the witches and wizards around, Mr. García used magic to take down camp before leading the group across the field. Bryt kept an arm around Hermione's shoulder as best as she could with the height difference, relying on her friend for support as she continued with her one-leg hopping.

"I still don' understand why you won' let anyone heal that," Julio said, watching Bryt and Hermione from the corner of his eye.

"We shouldn't use magic for every little thing," Bryt said, "A mild sprain ain't like a broken bone. I'll be fine."

They stayed quiet the rest of the walk until they passed Mr. Roberts's home, where he was wishing a 'Happy Christmas' to everyone who walked by. Mr. García informed them that sometimes a person can be a little disorientated for a while after having their memory altered, and the bigger the thing they're made to forget, the more severe the side effects.

Once they reached the portkeys, Bryt noticed a crowd had already begun to gather as many witches and wizards were desperate to leave. Bryt couldn't blame them. She wanted nothing more than to get away, to get to Ron's home, The Burrow.

Bryt looked around, trying to see if she could spot any of the Weasleys, knowing they'd be hard to miss. It seemed that they hadn't arrived yet and Bryt let go of Hermione so she could sit down on a patch of grass. Mr. García informed them that he was going to try and schedule a portkey for him and Julio to head out so he could get to a phone before news of what had happened reached the States.

"It's weird," Julio said as his father walked off and he sat in the grass next to the girls.

"What is?" Bryt and Hermione asked together.

"This," Julio waved around him, "What happened last night. And what Sofí said when I called her after we landed in Manchester."

"You said she was just bein' a pain," Bryt said, remembering how Julio had come back from a payphone that afternoon looking annoyed, as he often did after Sofí's teasing.

"Yeah, I did," Julio said, "But after all this, it's startin' to bother me."

"What did she say?" Hermione asked.

"Nothin' much," Julio replied, "She jus' got this weird tone and made me promise that we'd be careful. She wouldn' let me get off the phone until I did."

"That's just Sofí bein' Sofí," Bryt said, "She likes bein' weird, and I bet she just couldn't admit that she was actually worried about her big brother bein' off in another country without her."

"Maybe," Julio said, running a hand through his hair, an odd look on his face, "It's just that tone she had that bothers me. Thinkin' back, she was just so...serious about it."

"She was just worried," Bryt said again, "You and her have never really been more than a city apart before."

"Yeah, you're right," Julio said, "I'm jus' makin' a big deal about nothin'."

Mr. García came back then, ending the three's conversation. Having to leave, Julio parted with a final kiss for Hermione, which Bryt made a point not to watch, and headed off into the crowd with his father.

"At least you'll see him next summer," Bryt said, looking to Hermione, who was still watching the crowd, "He and Sofí are plannin' to spend the summer here with me next year."

Hermione nodded. "It'll be hard holding up a relationship when we live on two different continents."

"C'mon, 'mione," Bryt said, "You and Julio have been keepin' this up since you met and had no problem with your relationship before. It was only a matter of time you'd get together. I know you'll hang in there."

Hermione grinned and nodded. "You're right," she said.

The two stayed silent after that, watching the crowd growing more as they waited for Harry and the Weasleys to arrive. It wasn't too long before Bryt could spot the group with vivid red hair and a single black-haired person among them. Hermione helped Bryt to her feet, letting Bryt use her for support again, and the two waved towards the Weasleys and Harry as they approached.

All of them seemed as tired as Bryt felt, and none seemed willing to talk because of it. Mr. Weasley set up a portkey for them, which was an experience Bryt wasn't looking forward to considering how her first had been. Luckily, this time had been with relatively little discomfort, only having to deal with a sharp pain in her injured ankle after tumbling over when the ground returned under Bryt's feet.

Mr. Weasley had been insistent that Bryt not try to make the hike down the hill and, to Bryt's embarrassment, Charlie offered to carry Bryt, as he was probably the strongest of the Weasleys and wasn't carrying any camping equipment.

Bryt tried to ignore the fact that she was being carried by imagining what Ron's home looked like. She had never been to The Burrow before, nor had she seen a magical family's home(aside from the Jonners's, which had been a simple plantation home). She had heard Harry describe the home after he had spent part of his summer there two years ago and Bryt had trouble picturing the building in her head.

It wasn't long before Bryt was able to see the house for herself. As they had come around a corner, a tall, crooked house stood in the distance. Bryt could tell the house had once been much smaller, but over the years had been added onto, becoming taller and taller. It somehow reminded Bryt of a Jenga stack, right before the last piece would be used that would cause the entire thing to come tumbling down. She couldn't imagine how this house could still be standing in any other way besides some type of magic.

"Oh, thank goodness, thank goodness!"

Bryt had only seen Mrs. Weasley a handful of times previously, but she still instantly recognized the short, plump woman running towards them, a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ in her hand. She had obviously read about what had happened and had been waiting for the group by the house.

"Arthur—I've been so worried—_so worried_—"

Mrs. Weasley hugged her husband tightly, dropping her copy of _The Daily Prophet_. Bryt could clearly see a black-and-white moving picture of the Dark Mark on the front page with the headline _SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP_. Bryt couldn't fault Mrs. Weasley for being worried about her family's safety.

"You're all right," Mrs. Weasley said, letting go of her husband and looking around. Bryt could tell the woman had been crying, "You're alive...Oh _boys_..."

Mrs. Weasley rushed forward again, pulling Fred and George into a tight hug. Bryt blinked as she noticed the rest of the Weasleys and Harry seemed to be caught off-guard by this. She couldn't understand why they'd be surprised about a mother hugging her sons, but she got her answer as Mrs. Weasley continued.

"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs. Weasley cried, "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough OWLs? Oh Fred...George..."

"Come on now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," Mr. Weasley said, gently pulling Mrs. Weasley from her sons and starting to lead her to the house, though Bryt heard him whisper to Bill to get the paper.

The group made their way into a tiny kitchen and Bryt sat down in one of the many miss-matched chairs around a large wooden table. While Hermione went to make Mrs. Weasley a cup of tea, Bryt looked around the room in fascination. The Jonners's home had seemed relatively normal, aside from their worker elf, owl cage, oddly titled books on a shelf, and moving photos all over the walls. The Weasley home was something completely different. There was a large clock that, instead of numbers, had a list of things to be done and books were scattered all over the place instead of kept neatly on a shelf. Objects were moving on their own, to the point that they seemed to be self-cleaning, and Bryt noticed an old-fashioned radio, but it was currently turned off.

"I knew it," Mr. Weasley said and Bryt looked over at him to see he was reading the article in _The Daily Prophet_, "_Ministry blunders_..._culprits not apprehended_..._lax security_..._Dark wizards running unchecked_..._national disgrace_...Who wrote this? Ah...of course...Rita Skeeter."

Bryt knew the name. She subscribed to _The Daily Prophet_ herself, and knew that any time she saw the name 'Rita Skeeter' attached to an article it meant it wasn't to be taken seriously. The woman twisted everything, not caring how fictional her story turned out to be, as long as she got a story.

"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" Percy said, "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't _specifically_ stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans—"

"Do us a favor, Perce," Bill cut in with a yawn, "And shut up."

Bryt snorted, which gained her a glare from Percy. Bryt didn't care, though. Percy was the only Weasley that Bryt didn't like at all. Sure, for the most part they were all "Ron's siblings" to Bryt and she didn't really know any of them all that well, but she often wished she knew less about Percy. She couldn't stand him and was extremely relieved that Percy had finished his education at Hogwarts and wouldn't be returning with them in September.

"I'm mentioned!" Mr. Weasley said and Mrs. Weasley looked up from her tea instantly.

"Where?" she asked, "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"

"Not by name," Mr. Weasley said, "Listen to this: _'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark, alleging that nobody had been hurt, despite the fact they were carrying a severely-injured young woman with them. The Ministry official refused to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed form the woods hours later, remains to be seen.'_ Oh really," Mr. Weasley handed the paper to Percy. "_Severely-injured_...Bryt only had a sprained ankle. _Rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods_...Well, there certainly will be rumors now she's printed that."

Mr. Weasley stood up with a sigh, looking back to Mrs. Weasley, "Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office; this is going to take some smoothing over."

"I'll come with you, Father," Percy said, "Mr. Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person."

Bryt glared after Percy as he left the room. The entire wizarding community was frantic over the Dark Mark and Percy was worried about a report on cauldrons? Bryt often wondered of Percy's only priorities were himself and work, with no care at all about anything, or anyone, else.

"Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday!" Mrs. Weasley said, "This hasn't got anything to do with your office; surely they can handle this without you?"

"I've got to go, Molly. I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and be off..."

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry spoke up suddenly as Mr. Weasley left the room, "Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?"

Bryt blinked, looking over at her friend. The only people Harry would write to were currently in the same room...Aside from Sirius. But why would Harry be so on edge about getting a letter from his godfather?

"Hedwig, dear?" Mrs. Weasley said, though she didn't seem to be paying much attention to anything in particular, "No...no, there hasn't been any post at all."

Harry glanced over at Bryt, Ron, and Hermione, his look showing that he wanted to talk to them.

"All right if I go dump my stuff in your room, Ron?" Harry asked.

"Yeah...think I will too," Ron answered, "Hermione? Bryt?"

"Yes," both girls answered. Bryt was glad for Mrs. Weasley's distraction as she stood up and hopped along behind her friends. It meant that Mrs. Weasley wouldn't notice Bryt's injury, and wouldn't begin fussing over her. For now, anyway.

Bryt used the wall along the narrow, wobbly stairway as a brace as she followed her friends up several stairways, straight to the top and a room with a plaque reading 'RONALD'S ROOM'.

Though Bryt was quite fond of the color orange, she still thought that Ron's room had gone overboard. Every inch of the room seemed to be done up in that color, the walls covered in posters of the same Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, possibly the worst professional Quidditch team Bryt could think of. Even the bedspread was orange, holding the Chudley Cannons symbol: Two C's with a cannon ball zooming through them. An owl cage sat on Ron's desk and a very hyperactive, tiny owl sat inside. The small owl had been given to Ron by Sirius a couple of months ago, for replacement for Ron's previous pet—who had turned out to be a murdering traitor. Bryt had learned that Ginny had named the owl Pigwidgeon, but Ron always called him Pig instead.

"What's up, Harry?" Ron asked as he closed his bedroom door and Bryt sat down on the bed.

"There's something I haven't told you," Harry said, "On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again."

Bryt's mouth fell open as she stared at Harry. Hermione instantly began listing off all different types of suggestions, but Bryt didn't pay any attention.

"Harry..." she started, "Your scar...Last time it hurt was because of Quirrell back in our first year...Because Voldemort—" Ron flinched, but Bryt ignored him, "—was nearby. He couldn't have been at Privet Drive...Could he?" The thought caused Bryt to shudder slightly and she shook her head, trying to get rid of it. The image of the cloaked man she had seen in the Forbidden Forest during her first year at Hogwarts came into her mind as clearly as if he were in front of her now.

"I'm sure he wasn't on Privet Drive," Harry said, "But I was dreaming about him...him and Peter—you know, Wormtail."

"Yeah, I know," Bryt said sourly, a sharp gab of guilt rushing through her as she remembered the night that Wormtail had transformed into a rat and ran within inches of Bryt. How she could have so easily caught him...How Sirius wouldn't be a fugitive on the run if Bryt had simply gotten over her fear of rats for two seconds...

"Well, I can't remember all of the dream now," Harry continued, "But they were plotting to kill...someone."

'_Damn it,'_ Bryt thought, gripping her pants legs in her hands, _'Why didn't I grab that bastard?'_

"It was only a dream," Ron said, as if trying to convince himself, "Just a nightmare."

"Yeah, but was it, though?" Harry asked, looking out the window, "It's weird, isn't it? My scar hurts, and three days later the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again."

"Don't—say—his—name!" Ron snapped. Bryt didn't pay much attention, her mind still on the end of the last school year. How so much could have been stopped if she only got her act together...

"And remember what Professor Trelawney said?" Harry continued, finally pulling Bryt fully from her daze, "At the end of last year?"

"C'mon, Treloony's mental," Bryt said with a huff, "That 'prophecy' you said she gave you's rubbish."

"Is it?" Harry asked, "I said she went into a trance, it was different than before. She said the Dark Lord would rise again..._greater and more terrible than before_...and he'd manage it because his servant was going to go back to him...and that night Wormtail escaped."

Bryt sighed, wishing they would stay away from this particular subject. The last thing she wanted was a constant reminder of that night, of her failure. She looked down at the spot of Ron's blanket between the red-head and herself, where Ron was currently picking at a hole in the bedspread.

"Why were you asking if Hedwig had come, Harry?" Hermione asked and Bryt was grateful for the distraction, "Are you expecting a letter?"

"I told Sirius about my scar," Harry answered, "I'm waiting for him to answer."

"Good thinking!" Ron said, suddenly looking much happier, "I bet Sirius'll know what to do!"

"I hoped he'd get back to me quickly."

"But we don't know where Sirius is...he could be in Africa or somewhere, couldn't he?" Hermione pointed out, "Hedwig's not going to manage _that_ journey in a few days."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said with a sigh as he stared out the window.

"Come on and have a game of Quidditch in the orchard, Harry," Ron said, obviously trying to cheer Harry up, "Come on—three on three, Bill and Charlie and Fred and George will play...You can try out the Wronski Feint..."

"Ron," Hermione cut in with a stern tone, "Harry doesn't want to play Quidditch right now...He's worried, and he's tired...We all need to go to bed..."

"Yeah, I want to play Quidditch," Harry said, "Hang on, I'll get my Firebolt."

Hermione made a disapproving noise, leaving the room. Bryt couldn't help but laugh.

"Wish I could join," she said, "But I really don't need to risk hurtin' my ankle more. I do need to let Terry know about what happened, though, and let him know I'm okay. I'll come out and watch after I send off my letter."

Bryt stood up, hopping her way from the room, ignoring Ron's snickering behind her. She made her way down to the third floor towards Ginny's bedroom, where Bryt and Hermione would be staying the rest of the summer.


	13. Holidays Ending

Bryt liked Ginny's bedroom. It was small, but bright, reminding Bryt a lot of her bedroom of her first home when she lived in Charleston. Though, unlike Bryt's old room, the walls were decorated with posters of the wizard band, the Weird Sisters, as well as of a woman that Bryt knew to be the captain of the all-female Quidditch team, the Holyhead Harpies.

Bryt was currently sitting on one of the two cots that had been set up in the room, enjoying the sunlight coming from the window next to her as she used one of her schoolbooks to press down on while writing her letter to Terry.

"Who are you writing to?"

Bryt jerked, spilling orange ink over her parchment. Cursing under her breath, she pulled out her wand to clean it up and looked up to see Ginny had come in.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Ginny said, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it," Bryt answered as she cleaned the last bit of ink, then put the quill to paper again, "And I'm writing Terry. I'm sure he's read _The Daily Prophet_ by now and I want to get word to him as fast as possible to let him know I'm okay."

There was a short silence before Ginny spoke up again.

"Can I ask you something, Bryt?"

Bryt looked up at the red-head, blinking when she noticed Ginny was blushing and looking uncomfortable.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Well...How did you manage it? You and Terry. What did it take?"

Bryt blinked, trying to figure out what Ginny was trying to ask. When Ginny began to look even more uncomfortable, it suddenly dawned on Bryt what was going on.

"Oh!" she said suddenly, "There's a guy you like, isn't there?"

Ginny tensed, but nodded. Bryt grinned, remembering how a year ago Ginny had a crush on Harry. Bryt wondered who it was Ginny liked now, but she figured it wasn't her place to ask.

"I really dunno how to help you..." Bryt finally said, "What happened with me and Ter just...happened. We talked, got to know each other, just were ourselves. It just fell together."

"So...I should just be myself around him?" Ginny asked. Bryt nodded, grinning at her.

"That should be enough," she said, "Any guy who expects you to change for him ain't a guy worth havin'."

Ginny sat there in silence, obviously thinking over what Bryt had said. Bryt went back to her letter, trying to occupy herself during the awkward silence that had fallen over the two girls. As Bryt wrote, she couldn't help but realize this was probably the first real conversation that she had had with _any_ of Ron's siblings. She never spent much time around any of them, after all.

'_Still says somethin' that Ginny asked me for advice,'_ Bryt thought, _'Maybe I should try to get to know her better...'_

"Oh, the boys are playing Quidditch in the orchard," Ginny suddenly said.

Bryt looked up, then followed Ginny's gaze out the window to where she could see Harry, Ron, Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George all on their brooms.

"Yeah, I wanted to go out there, but my ankle has me grounded," Bryt said, "Er...No pun intended there..."

Ginny let out a laugh and Bryt couldn't help but laugh herself.

"I wouldn't mind playing with them," Ginny said, "But I doubt they'd let me."

"Boys Club," Bryt said, remembering the many forts done up by her childhood classmates at the elementary school she had attended, "No Girls Allowed."

"That's a very good explanation of it," Ginny said.

"I know," Bryt replied, "I had a lot of first-hand experience of it when I was younger. I was always the 'odd-girl-out' at school. I acted too much like a boy for the girls to want to play with me. After all, I hated dolls and dress up and playing 'house'. But I was a girl, so the boys wanted nothin' to do with me, either."

"Try being the youngest of seven, and the only girl at that," Ginny said, "I was often left out of the games they played when we were younger. Hasn't changed that much now."

Bryt nodded, still working on her letter.

"I can sort-of imagine what it's like to have older siblings," Bryt said, "After all, I practically grew up with Sofí and Julio, and I consider them siblings. I get plenty of teasin' and carryin' on from Sofí, that's for sure. I can't imagine her multiplied by seven...It'd be a nightmare..."

Ginny laughed again. "If she's anything like Fred and George, I can understand that fear."

"Oh, Fred and George often remind me a lot of Sofí," Bryt said, "...Only Sofí is a lot crazier."

"Is that even possible?" Ginny asked.

"Don't you remember what Sofí did in the middle of that dinner last year at the Leaky Cauldron?" Bryt pointed out, looking up at Ginny.

"You mean her calling Percy a 'tattle-tell' as loudly as she could?" Ginny asked.

"That's _tame_ for Sofí, trust me."

Ginny laughed again. Bryt grinned, starting to wonder why she never tried to get to know Ginny before. So far, the girl was a lot of fun to talk with and Bryt had a feeling the two girls had a lot more in common than she had first thought.

This became even more apparent over the next week as Bryt slowly got to know Ginny more. As Bryt was 'banned from anything active' by Mrs. Weasley, Bryt spent most of her time in the living room with Ginny and Hermione, the three sharing stories and getting to know each other better while Ron and Harry spent most of their time playing Quidditch outside.

To Bryt's relief, Percy had been gone every day, not returning until late, mostly a good deal after Bryt had decided to stay up in Ginny's room. This had meant that Bryt didn't have to deal much with her most-disliked Weasley sibling. Bryt was also both relieved and disappointed that Mr. Weasley was gone every day. Disappointed because she liked Mr. Weasley and knew he had to be overworked with all that was coming in after what had happened at the World Cup, but relieved because it meant Mr. Weasley wouldn't be around to ask Bryt, Hermione, or Harry endless questions about the Muggle world.

The last day of the holidays, Bryt had to put up with Percy's presence, though, as he had arrived home while Bryt had still been downstairs, working on putting together a scrapbook from pictures she had taken throughout the summer.

"It's been an absolute uproar," Percy said in the 'I'm-so-important' tone that always made Bryt want to hit the boy in the face, "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders."

"Pity," Bryt muttered sarcastically, gaining a laugh from Ginny next to her(though she covered it with a cough) and a glare from Hermione on her other side. Percy didn't seem to notice the exchange, luckily.

"Why are they sending Howlers?" Ginny asked, finishing up her mending of her battered copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_.

"Complaining about security of the World Cup," Percy answered, "They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundugus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped up on sticks."

"Your father hasn't had to go into work on weekends since the days of You-Know-Who," Mrs. Weasley said with a sigh. Bryt looked up and noticed the woman looking at the odd clock set over the mantel. There were several hands on the clock, each one labeled with the name of one of the Weasley family and, instead of numbers, had things like "Home", "Work", "Travel", "Prison", "Mortal Peril", "Lost", and "Hospital". Currently all the hands but Mr. Weasley's were on "Home", with Mr. Weasley's currently pointing to "Work".

"They're working him far too hard," Mrs. Weasley continued, "His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."

"Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" Percy asked and Bryt glared at him, "If truth be told, he was a tad unwise, making a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first—"

"Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" Mrs. Weasley said harshly. Bryt had learned over the past week that, despite how gentle and caring the woman appeared to be, Mrs. Weasley was definitely not a woman to cross.

"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would have just said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented," Bill spoke up from his chess game with Ron, "Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts's Curse Breakers once, and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?"

"Well it _is_ a bit long, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, "If you'd just let me—"

"_No_, Mum."

Bryt giggled, turning back to the conversation she had been having with Ginny about how the youngest Weasley would be starting Care of Magical Creatures this year and what type of creatures she'd like to see Hagrid bring in. Hermione had her full attention on her copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four_ while Harry was polishing his Firebolt and Fred and George were unusually quiet in one corner of the room.

"What are you two up to?" Mrs. Weasley asked and Bryt and Ginny looked up to see Mrs. Weasley looking over at the twins.

"Homework," Fred said simply.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Yeah, we've left it a bit late," George replied.

"You're not by any chance writing out a new _order form_, are you? You wouldn't be thinking of restarting Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, by any chance?"

"Now, Mum," Fred looked up with an expression of mock-hurt, "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel to know the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"

Bryt couldn't help but laugh, as did everyone else in the room, including Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh!" Mrs. Weasley said, looking at the odd 'locator clock'(as Bryt secretly called it), Your father's coming!"

Bryt looked up at the clock herself, seeing that Mr. Weasley's hand on the clock had moved from "Work" to "Traveling" and then to "Home" a second later. Right after, Mr. Weasley called out an "I'm home" from the kitchen.

"Coming, Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley called back, heading off.

A few moments later, the two came into the room, Mr. Weasley carrying his dinner on a tray and looking exhausted as he sat down in the empty armchair close to the fire.

"Well, the fat's really in the fire now," Mr. Weasley said, "Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the _Prophet_ tomorrow. I _told_ Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."

"Mr. Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks," Percy said quickly, as if wanting to make sure everyone knew the man he admired had nothing to do with the delay in searching for a missing person. Bryt just wish he'd shut up.

"Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky," Mr. Weasley said, "There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark."

"But Winky wasn't guilty!" Bryt pointed out.

"And Mr. Crouch is very lucky no one at the _Daily Prophet_ knows how mean he is to elves!" Hermione spoke up angrily.

"Now look here, Hermione!" Percy said sharply, "A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr. Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants—"

"His _slaves_!" Bryt and Hermione chorused loudly.

"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" Mrs. Weasley cut in, stopping the argument from going any further, "Come now, all of you..."

Bryt was glad for an excuse to get away from Percy. Closing the scrapbook she had been rearranging, Bryt stood up and limped her way up to Ginny's room with Ginny and Hermione, heading inside. Rain was pounding hard on the window, which Bryt was glad about. She always slept better during rainy nights.

Bryt went to her trunk, repacking the few things that had gotten scattered during the past week. She caught sight of the dark blue velvet-and-silk fabric at the bottom of her trunk and sighed, wishing she could just get rid of the thing, as if it were a disgrace for her to have the dress robes among her things.

"I still wonder what we need dress robes for," Hermione spoke up and Bryt looked over to see she was refolding her own dress robes, which had been pulled out in the process of her repacking.

"Whatever it is, it won't involve third years," Ginny said, "Dress robes weren't on my list."

That ended the conversation, as Bryt and Hermione both seemed to think it was unfair to continue to speculate on what the robes were for when Ginny would be left out. The three girls continued to repack in silence before all deciding it would be better to go to bed, as they would have to get up early the next morning for their trip to King's Cross to board The Hogwarts Express.

* * *

**A/N:** As you've noticed, I've been updating quite frequently this week. It'll only be for this week, though. I felt bad about my long hiatus and had several lazy do-nothing days where I simply worked on this story. I have the next chapter completed as well, which I plan to put up either tomorrow or Friday, depending on if I finish chapter fifteen in time to go up this week as well.


	14. Journey to Hogwarts

When Bryt woke up the next morning, heavy rainfall was pounding against the window over her head as if trying to lull her back to sleep. Mr. Weasley calling goodbye from the hallway and wishing everyone a good term finally pulled Bryt completely from her slumber. Still, it was difficult for Bryt to pull herself out of bed, feeling as if she had been woken up far too early and should go back to sleep.

Bryt, still feeling half-asleep, dressed in her usual cargos and sweater before combing quickly through her hair and tying in the scarf headband. Once Ginny and Hermione were both ready as well, the three girls made their way downstairs for breakfast to see everyone else was already downstairs.

As Bryt sat down and helped herself to a couple of pieces of toast, Bill and Charlie said they would come along to see everyone off at King's Cross. Percy, much to Bryt's relief, gave a false-sounding apology as he said he couldn't come.

"I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment," he said, "Mr. Crouch is really starting to rely on me."

"Yeah, you know what, Percy?" George spoke up, "I reckon he'll know your name soon."

Bryt choked on her toast, which gained her a glare from Percy. Bryt so often got that look from him that she wondered if Percy was just unable to look at her any other way besides glaring.

It wasn't too long after that it was time for them to leave. Mrs. Weasley had called in taxies to take them to King's Cross and Bryt was standing in the rain with the hood of her jacket over her head as she watched the men try to shove trunks and owl cages into the back of the cabs. This proved difficult as Pigwidgeon was carrying on loudly and one of the men dropped Fred's trunk, which set off a bunch of fireworks. This, in turn, spooked Crookshanks, who was already edgy due to the rain, and the cat went climbing up the driver's leg.

The trip was no more pleasant. Cramped into the back of a cab with their trunks, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Bryt also had to deal with a still-spooked Crookshanks, which led them to be covered with stinging scratches as they reached King's Cross.

Bryt was glad to finally be there. Mrs. Weasley refused to let Bryt try and carry her own trunk due to her injured ankle, so Bryt offered to huddle Crookshanks under her jacket and carry him across the street. Still, with the pounding rain, everyone was soaked by the time they got inside.

They were soon on the hidden platform nine and three-quarters, where Bryt insisted on looking for her brothers and sitting in a compartment with them.

"I promised them I would," Bryt said, getting help with pulling her trunk on the train.

Carrying Joey's and Pigwidgeon's cages while Ron pulled her trunk, as well as his, Bryt led the way until she found her brothers sitting in a compartment that was about halfway along the train.

"Bryt!" both boys hopped up, greeting their sister with a hug. Bryt noticed Merlin, Drew's black-and-white cat, was curled up at the end of one of the seats.

"I said I'd sit with you," Bryt said with a grin, "And I'll be right back. I'm gonna go say bye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie."

Bryt followed her friends back to one of the doors leading off the train, but she stayed in the doorway as the others hopped down.

"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," Charlie said with a grin as he hugged Ginny.

"Why?" Fred asked.

"You'll see. Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it...it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it', after all."

"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," Bill said, shoving his hands in his pockets as he gave the train a longing look.

"_Why?_" George asked this time.

"You're going to have an interesting year," Bill replied, "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it..."

"A bit of _what_?" Bryt and Ron chorused.

The whistle blew then and Mrs. Weasley began herding them towards the train. Bryt moved out of the way for everyone to get on.

"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, leaning out the train window after she had climbed on.

"It was great," Bryt said and Harry agreed.

"Oh, it was my pleasure, dears," Mrs. Weasley replied, "I'd invite you for Christmas, but...well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with...one thing and another."

"Mum!" Ron said, "What d'you three know that we don't?"

"You'll find out this evening, I expect," Mrs. Weasley said with a smile, "It's going to be exciting—mind you, I'm very glad they changed the rules—"

"What rules?" came the chorused reply.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you...Now, behave, won't you? _Won't_ you, Fred? And you, George?"

"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred called as the train started off, "What rules are they changing?"

Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie only waved, then Disapparated before the train even made it to the turn.

Bryt groaned as she started back down the train at a limp.

"Whatever's happenin' at Christmas better be once-in-a-lifetime to get me to stay," she said.

"What?" Ron looked over at Bryt in surprise, "You're not going to stay for Christmas this year?"

"I'd _like_ to," Bryt replied, "But Mom wasn't happy at all about me spendin' the end of my summer at your place, Ron. I think the only reason she let me is 'cause my dad's gotten to be friends with your dad, and that Harry and Hermione were there too. But I think Mom'll skin me alive if I stay for Christmas without a bloody good reason."

They reached the compartment again and Bryt sat down between her brothers as Pigwidgeon started hooting even louder, much to Joey and Hedwig's annoyance. Ron grumbled and pulled something maroon and frilly from his trunk. Bryt blinked at it as Ron threw it over Pigwidgeon's cage, but she stopped herself from saying anything as she took a guess that they were Ron's dress robes. And that he had gotten them second-hand. Bryt knew how testy Ron was about his family's financial situation.

"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," Ron said as he sat across from Bryt and her brothers, "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what—"

"Shhh!" Hermione hissed, looking towards the open compartment door. Bryt tensed as she heard the familiar voice of Draco Malfoy come from the next compartment over.

"...Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore—the man's such a mudblood-lover—and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to a school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually _learn_ them, not just the defense rubbish we do..."

Hermione leaned over, closing the door as quietly as she could. Bryt gripped her pants legs tighter, glaring towards the door.

"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" Hermione asked, "I wish he _had_ gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."

"What was that word he used, Bryt?" Drew looked up at Bryt, "That mud—"

"You ignore anyone who calls you that," Bryt said instantly, looking between her brothers, "It's somethin' really nasty for a Muggleborn like us, and I won't lie and say everyone's friendly. But if you ever hear that term, just ignore them."

"Or tell us and we'll curse the guy," Ron said.

"Ron, last time you cursed someone for that, you ended up burpin' slugs all afternoon," Bryt reminded her friend.

"Yeah, well..." Ron went pink around the ears, "I had a broken wand then, a curse would work this time."

"None of you will curse anyone!" Hermione said, horrified, "You could get in serious trouble!"

"Not if we get away with it," Ron and Bryt chorused. Harry started laughing and Hermione gave an annoyed huff.

"Some example you're setting for your brothers, Bryt," she said.

"Hey, my brothers know they can look up to me," Bryt replied, throwing her arms around her brothers' shoulders. Both went red and ducked away from her.

Bryt, Harry, Hermione, and Ron spent most of the morning describing the classes to Drew and Mike, with Bryt constantly having to reassure her brothers that Ron's comments about insane tests during the Sorting were false, describing that the Sorting was basically letting a hat sit on their head and put them in one of four Houses.

"But if you're in Slytherin, you might as well just ask to go back home," Ron said, and Bryt kicked him in the leg.

"You two won't be in Slytherin," Bryt said, glaring over at Ron, who was rubbing his knee, "That's the House for slimy gits. You two just don't qualify."

As the lunch trolley came, Harry offered to buy them all Cauldron Cakes, which they ate on as several of their classmates came by throughout the afternoon. This always made Drew uncomfortable, as he was the much shier of Bryt's younger brothers and didn't take too quickly to new people.

Seamus and Dean stopped by only briefly, Seamus still wearing his Ireland rosette, which was still weakly shouting the names of the Irish team players. Bryt introduced both of them to her brothers, and both wished them luck and gave hopes they'd be in Gryffindor.

Soon after Seamus and Dean left, Neville Longbottom showed up. Though not someone Bryt hung out with every day, Neville was still someone Bryt was still closer to than the rest of her classmates. He was a round-faced, very forgetful boy, and Bryt was often helping him out whenever she could.

After another round if introducing-the-brothers, Neville sat down with them and the conversation soon turned to the Quidditch World Cup. At this point, Hermione had pulled out her copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four_ and hid her face behind it. Though while Bryt, Ron, and Harry retold the game almost play-for-play, Neville, Mike, and Drew all listened intently.

"Gran didn't want to go," Neville said with a sigh, "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though."

"It was," Ron said, "Look at this, Neville..."

Ron went digging through his trunk and soon pulled out the miniature figure of Viktor Krum that he had bought, handing it over to Neville.

"Oh _wow_," Neville said with a strong tone on envy. Bryt couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Over the past three years, so little ever seemed to go right for Neville, and it seemed that streak was going to keep continuing.

"We saw him right up close, as well," Ron went on, "We were in the Top Box—"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

Bryt looked up to see the familiar narrow-faced, pale-blonde Malfoy. With him were his usual lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle, whom both seemed to have grown tremendously over the summer. Bryt thought if they kept it up, it wouldn't be too long before they'd be giving Hagrid a run for his money in size.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," Harry said coldly.

Malfoy didn't seem to hear. He had looked up to Ron's dress robes dangling from Pigwidgeon's cage.

"Look at this!" Malfoy said, grabbing the robes and holding them up, a smirk crossing his face, "Weasley, you weren't thinking of _wearing_ these, were you? I mean—they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety..."

Bryt gripped her hands into fits as Ron went a deep shade of red.

"Eat dung, Malfoy!" Ron snapped, snatching the robes away from him. Malfoy only laughed in response and Bryt pushed herself to her feet, wincing as she put weight on her injured foot.

"So..." Malfoy didn't seem to notice Bryt, as he was still looking at Ron, "Going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know...you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won..."

Bryt shoved forward before anyone could stop her, swinging her fist upward and making contact hard with Malfoy's face. She was pleased to hear a sickening crack as Malfoy stumbled back, his hands over his face as he stared at Bryt, who glared back in turn.

"You'll pay for dat!" Malfoy said through his fingers, though he had turned and disappeared down the corridor, Crabbe and Goyle right behind.

"I _hate_ that slimy, no-good git," Bryt growled, turning back around to see everyone staring at her with a shocked expression.

"Er...Ignore that, you two," Bryt said to her brothers as she sat back down between them, "You didn't just see me punch anyone, and Mom certainly doesn't need to know."

"Bryt!" Hermione was the first to find her voice, "What were you thinking?"

"That I needed to shut him up," Bryt said, "I don't need my brothers exposed to that git so early in their first year at Hogwarts."

"We won't end up in the same House as him, will we?" Mike asked cautiously.

"Of course not," Bryt answered instantly, "He's a Slytherin. You won't have anythin' to do with him."

"What was he talking about, though?" Harry asked, "About entering something?"

"Who knows?" Ron asked, squashing a Caldron Cake in his hands.

"It might not be anythin'," Bryt said, "He was probably makin' up some crap just to have an excuse to bug us."

"You'd think he'd have learned, though," Ron said, looking at Bryt, "I mean, how many times have you punched him before?"

Bryt shrugged, staring off out the window. Her mood improved very little over the rest of the trip, though mostly due to the fact that her anger was replaced by nerves. She just kept hoping that her brothers would end up in Gryffindor with her. Or if they weren't, that they would at least be in Ravenclaw so she could ask Terry to keep an eye on them.

'_I wonder where Terry is,'_ Bryt thought, staring out at the rain. She had expected to see Terry stop by at some point on the train ride, to say hi and ask how she was doing. She couldn't exactly go looking for him with her ankle still healing, after all.

Terry didn't show up at all the entire ride, leaving Bryt disappointed. When her friends asked about Bryt's sour mood, she simply said (in undertone so her brothers didn't hear) that she was nervous about her brothers' Sorting. Bryt pulled on her Hogwarts robes, throwing her rain jacket over Joey's cage. Harry did the same with Hedwig and Hermione bundled Crookshanks in her own robes. Drew seemed reluctant to leave his cat in his carrier on the train, but Bryt reassured him that Merlin would be taken care of, and they all braved the pounding rain.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" Hagrid's booming voice called from the end of the platform.

"See you two later," Bryt hugged her brothers one last time, wishing them luck, and hurrying them off to Hagrid for the traditional boat ride to the castle. Drew and Mike were very reluctant to part ways with Bryt, but they kept huddled together and moved towards Hagrid's looming figure, occasionally looking back towards Bryt.

"Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," Hermione said as they made their way across the platform.

"Hermione, don't remind me," Bryt groaned, staring off at the group of first years huddling around Hagrid.

They soon made it to the thestral-drawn carriages, eager to get out of the rain. Shivering as the thestrals started off, Bryt was eager to get to the warmth of the castle and learn what Houses her brothers would be Sorted into.


	15. A Bad Start

Bryt's ankle was throbbing with pain by the time she got into the castle due to her running through the rain. She groaned, ringing water out of her robes and shaking her head to get rid of excess rain, feeling as if she had jumped into a swimming pool fully clothed.

As if to make things worse, Peeves the poltergeist was hovering near the entrance to the Great Hall, bombarding the already-soaked students with balloons filled with icy-cold water. This was only stopped as McGonagall (their Transfiguration teacher and the assistant headmistress of Hogwarts) arrived, her hat askew as she slid across the wet floor. She threatened Peeves with going to the headmaster, which Peeves replied to with a loud raspberry before dropping the last of his water balloons and flying off.

Shooed on by McGonagall, Bryt, Ron, Hermione, and Harry made their way across the entrance hall, slipping and sliding over the wet floor. Bryt was glad to get into the warmth of the Great Hall, rubbing her arms as she limped along behind her friends, her ankle hurting almost as badly as it had the night she twisted it.

As they passed the Ravenclaw table, Bryt looked along the table until she spotted Terry sitting between his friends Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein. Bryt waved to Terry with a grin when he looked her way and he gave an almost half-hearted wave back before turning back to the conversation he had been having with his own friends.

Bryt felt a jab of disappointment as she let her hand drop, turning back to her friends as they made their way to the Gryffindor table on the other end of the Great Hall. Bryt sat next to Hermione with her back to the other tables, not wanting to look back at the Ravenclaw table again, wondering what was up with Terry.

"Bryt, are you okay?"

Bryt looked up to see Hermione watching her, leaned closer to whisper while Ron and Harry, who were sitting on the other side of the table, talked with the Gryffindor House ghost.

"Terry just seems weird tonight," Bryt whispered, glancing over her shoulder to her boyfriend for a second, "He didn't show up at all on the train and I expected to see him...And just now, he didn't seem that willing to greet me when I waved to him..."

"Maybe he's just not feeling well today?" Hermione asked, looking towards the Ravenclaw table herself, "I'm sure if something was wrong, he would have told you in his last letter, wouldn't he?"

"He didn't say all that much in that letter," Bryt said with a sigh, "Just that he was glad I was okay, thanked me for the model Firebolt, and that he couldn't wait to see me once the term started."

"Hiya, Harry!"

Bryt groaned as she recognized the hyperactive voice of Colin Creevey, a Gryffindor one year below her with an unhealthy obsession on her friend Harry. Bryt looked down the table to see the mousey-haired boy literally bouncing up and down in his seat.

"Hi, Colin," Harry called back cautiously, obviously not wanting to talk with the boy.

"Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"

Bryt groaned again as Harry managed a quick 'that's good'. If Dennis was anything like his brother, Bryt felt sorry for the new group of first years. Especially Mike and Drew.

"He's really excited!" Colin called down the table, "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?"

"Er—yeah, all right," Harry replied.

"I'm just hopin' _my_ brothers end up in Gryffindor," Bryt said, looking off towards the side-doors where first years usually came in. She thought about the raging storm outside and hoped that all of the first years would be okay crossing the lake.

"Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Hermione asked.

Bryt looked over at the staff table. In the past three years, they had had three different Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. Students were even beginning to believe that the job was jinxed, as the first, Professor Quirrell, was killed. The second, Gilderoy Lockhart, turned out to be a fraud and lost his memory after a spell meant for Harry, Bryt, and Ron backfired on him. The third—and Bryt's personal favorite teacher—Remus Lupin, was outed as a werewolf and forced to resign.

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone?" Bryt asked, "Or maybe he or she just ain't got here yet..."

"Oh, I hope they did find someone..." Hermione said, "What will we do if there's no one to teach the class?"

"Maybe one of the other teachers will take over?" Harry suggested.

"I just wish they'd hurry up with the Sorting," Ron said grumpily, "I could eat a hippogriff."

Bryt was just about to reply, but cut herself off as the doors to the Great Hall opened and McGonagall came in, leading the group of thoroughly soaked first years. Bryt looked over the group until she noticed her brothers huddled together, shivering and looking around them in a mixture of awe, excitement, and terror. Bryt remembered her feelings being much the same on her first day at Hogwarts. Both Mike and Drew finally noticed where Bryt was and she grinned at them, giving them a quick wave.

It wasn't hard for Bryt to pick out Colin's younger brother out of the crowd, either. Aside from the fact that he was the only one looking purely ecstatic—without the slightest trace of fear, nerves, or misery from being drenched—he was wearing Hagrid's giant moleskin coat, making him look like the Addams Family's Cousin It—if It had suddenly become extremely obese. Little Dennis looked over towards the Gryffindor table, obviously looking for his brother, and gave two thumbs up, mouthing 'I fell into the lake!', seeming as if the idea of falling into freezing water in the middle of a thunderstorm had to be the best thing that could ever happen to a person.

'_He's definitely like his brother...'_ Bryt thought, _'This school is in a lot of trouble now...'_

McGonagall stepped forward, setting up a small stool and placing the Sorting Hat on top of it. After a second, the brim of the hat opened and began to sing:

_A thousand years or more ago  
When I was newly sewn,  
There lived four wizards of renown,  
Whose names are still well known:  
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,  
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,  
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,  
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.  
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,  
They hatched a daring plan  
To educate young sorcerers  
Thus Hogwarts School began.  
Now each of these four founders  
Formed their own house, for each  
Did value different virtues  
In the ones they had to teach.  
By Gryffindor, the bravest were  
Prized far beyond the rest;  
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest  
Would always be the best;  
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were  
Most worthy of admission;  
And power-hungry Slytherin  
Loved those of great ambition.  
While still alive they did divide  
Their favorites from the throng,  
Yet how to pick the worthy ones  
When they were dead and gone?  
'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,  
He whipped me off his head  
The founders put some brains in me  
So I could choose instead!  
Now slip me snug about your ears,  
I've never yet been wrong,  
I'll have a look inside your mind  
And tell where you belong!_

Bryt clapped with the rest of the students, most of the first years began exchanging confused looks. She wondered how many were Muggleborn, ones who thought the idea of a talking hat was insane.

"That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us," Harry said.

"Sings a different one each year," Ron replied, "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one."

"When I call out your name," McGonagall addressed the first years, unrolling a long piece of parchment, "You will put on the hat and sit on the stool. When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

"Ackerley, Stewart!"

A small boy, who was shaking hard from both nerves and being cold, made his way to the stool, sitting down and pulling the hat onto his head.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Little Ackerley took off the hat and practically ran to the Ravenclaw table, where the Ravenclaws were clapping for their new housemate.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

And after Eleanor Bradstone and Owen Cauldwell both became Hufflepuffs, McGonagall called up "Creevey, Dennis!"

Dennis went running forward, tripping over Hagrid's far-too-large coat. He sat down eagerly on the stool, yanking the hat down hard enough that it seemed to swallow his entire head.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Bryt clapped with the rest of the Gryffindors as Dennis took off the Sorting Hat and ran towards their table, practically throwing himself in the seat next to his brother and began talking loudly about how he fell into the lake. Bryt ignored this, focusing on the Sorting itself, twisting her bracelet between her hands nervously as she waited for her brothers' names to be called.

'_What I really hate about havin' a last name beginnin' with W,'_ Bryt thought as McGonagall reached the L's, _'Always near the bottom of the list.'_

"Oh hurry up," Ron said with a moan. Usually, Bryt was agreeing with Ron wanting to eat, as she had almost as much of an appetite as him at times. Tonight, however, a mixture of nerves over her brothers' Sorting and Terry's odd behavior had left Bryt with next-to-no appetite.

"Now, Ron," Nearly Headless Nick spoke up(and Bryt was wishing he'd go talk to other Gryffindors—she never liked any of the school's ghosts as they always made her uncomfortable), "The Sorting's much more important than food."

"I wish they'd hurry up, too," Bryt said, "I wanna know what House my brothers end up in."

"I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch," Nearly Headless Nick said as Natalie McDonald joined their table, "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?"

The Gryffindor House ghost was referring to the fact that Gryffindor had won the Inter-House Cup for the past three years running. Bryt simply gave a short, agreeing nod, continuing to watch the Sorting.

After Graham Pritchard became a Slytherin and Orla Quirke became Ravenclaw, McGonagall finally called the first of two names that Bryt was anxious for:

"Watkins, Andrew!"

Drew hesitated, only to receive encouraging nudges from his twin and the black boy left with them. Finally moving forward, Drew slowly went up to the stool and sat down, squeezing his eyes shut as he dropped the hat down over his head, and Bryt could tell how badly he was shaking, even from where she was sitting.

'_Please, Gryffindor...'_ Bryt begged, gripping tightly to her bracelet. She began bouncing her foot anxiously as the Sorting Hat seemed to be taking quite a while with its decision. It was over a minute before the Sorting Hat finally opened its brim and—

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Bryt swallowed, feeling as if her stomach tied itself into sickening knots. Drew pulled off the hat, looking almost sick as he looked towards Bryt. She forced herself to grin at him, not wanting her brother to think she was upset. She mouthed a quick 'congratulations' and nodded to the table of Hufflepuffs applauding next to the Gryffindor table. Drew nodded, slowly moving over to his new House's table, sitting into a seat next to the other recently-Sorted Hufflepuffs.

"Watkins, Michael!"

Bryt slowly turned from Drew, who was still looking almost sick, and watched as Mike didn't hesitate as Drew did, and didn't look nearly as sick, but still seemed nervous as he took a deep breath before dropping the hat down on his head. Bryt didn't even think while the Sorting Hat remained silent, still numb over the fact Drew had been Sorted into Hufflepuff, not—

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Bryt straightened in her seat as Mike pulled off the Sorting Hat and looked over towards Drew at the Hufflepuff table before moving towards the Gryffindors and sitting in the empty seat next to Bryt.

"Congrads," Bryt said, patting her brother on the back and telling herself that she was lucky that at least one of her brothers had made it to Gryffindor.

Though as the last boy, Kevin Whitby, became a Hufflepuff, Bryt couldn't help but worry about Drew. Drew had sat with her on the train, unable to meet other first years and start making friends...He'd be alone, not knowing anyone...

'_Maybe he'll make some friends there,'_ Bryt thought, looking over her shoulder to her brother, who was playing with his glasses—a habit Drew did whenever he was upset or worried—while the black boy, Kevin, was trying to start up a conversation with him.

Bryt sighed, turning back in front of her as the food began to appear on the table. Bryt slowly put some of the food on her plate, but she only picked up her fork and moved some of the food around. Her appetite was completely gone now.

"Foo ohay Bry'?"

Bryt looked up to see Ron staring at her, talking through a mouth full of potatoes.

"I'm fine," Bryt said with a grin, "Just not all that hungry."

When Ron gave Bryt a disbelieving look, Bryt jerked her head to her brother next to her. Ron seemed to get the hint that Bryt didn't want to talk about it in front of Mike because he didn't push the issue further.

"You should eat something, though," Hermione said, cutting into her steak and giving Harry and Ron disgusted looks as they shoved so much food in their mouths that they were beginning to look like chipmunks with their cheeks puffed out.

"Do you think Drew will be okay?" Mike asked, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he ate.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Bryt said, grinning at her brother, "He'll most likely have a friend or two by the end of dinner."

"But Drew doesn't make friends easily," Mike pointed out.

Bryt pushed part of her potatoes around on her plate, knowing Mike was right. It wasn't that Drew was unfriendly—quite the contrary. He was an extremely caring and cheerful boy(_'Which is probably why he ended up in Hufflepuff,' _Bryt thought). But, unlike Mike who'd go up to anyone and start a conversation if he felt like it, Drew was almost painfully shy around people he didn't know. It was one of the many ways that Mike and Drew differed from each other, despite being identical in appearance. Another was that Drew often thought things through, wanting to avoid anything dangerous and know all possible outcomes before committing to something, while Mike tended to rush head-first into something without a second thought to what could happen and often dragged his friends along for the ride.

'_I should have known they would end up in different Houses,'_ Bryt thought, though she didn't feel any better about the situation.

"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," Ron said and Bryt looked up to see he and Harry were talking to Nearly Headless Nick again, "So what did he do in the kitchens?"

"Oh, the usual," the ghost replied, "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house elves out of their wits—"

Bryt choked on the first bite of food that she had managed to eat. At the same time, Hermione had knocked over her goblet, spilling pumpkin juice over the tablecloth.

"House elves?" Bryt echoed, staring at Nearly Headless Nick, "_House elves?_ Here?"

"Here at _Hogwarts_?" Hermione asked.

"Certainly," Nick replied, as if this were common knowledge, "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!" Hermione said.

"Me either!" Bryt added, trying to take in what Nearly Headless Nick had said. There were house elves at Hogwarts? Over a hundred of slaves in the very castle that she had spent most of the last three years?

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?" Nearly Headless Nick said, "They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning...see to the fires and so on...I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"

"But they get _paid_, right?" Hermione asked.

"Get time off when they're sick?" Bryt added.

"Holidays?"

"Pensions?"

Nearly Headless Nick just laughed, his head tilting to the side and hanging from the little skin keeping it attached to the rest of his body. Bryt made a face, deliberately looking away until Nick replaced his head on his shoulders.

"House elves don't want any of those things!"

Bryt and Hermione looked over at each other for a moment, then to their plates of food and simultaneously shoved the plates away from them. Even if Bryt had any appetite, she was going to refuse to eat anything that slaves had been forced to make for them. Bryt noticed Mike staring at her, his forkful of steak gripped tightly in his hand as he kept looking from Bryt, to her plate, then to his own food, as if trying to figure out if he should follow his sister's lead and abandon eating as well. He finally seemed to think his hunger was more important because he slowly began eating again, but he kept his head down, as if afraid it'd upset Bryt.

"Oh, c'mon," Ron managed through a mouthful of food, then swallowed it before continuing, "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourselves!"

"Slave labor," Hermione hissed as Bryt glared at Ron, "That's what made this dinner. _Slave labor_."

Through the rest of dinner, Bryt wondered how she hadn't figured out about the house elves before. After all, there had to have been _someone_ who took care of trivial things around the castle with keeping the common rooms clean and the students' beds made. And the Hogwarts caretaker, Mr. Filch, definitely wasn't the type to do anything like that.

As the meal was replaced by desserts, Ron began waving his hand over the food towards Bryt and Hermione, as if trying to tempt them into eating. Both girls started glaring at him.

"Keep it up, Ron," Bryt hissed, "And you'll soon be _wearin'_ that puddin'."

Ron seemed to decide it wasn't worth that because he didn't try again. It wasn't too long before the desserts had disappeared as well and Dumbledore stood up. Everyone fell silent almost instantly; the only sound left was the storm raging outside.

"So! Now that we're all fed and watered," Dumbledore said with a bright smile, which Bryt and Hermione both replied to with disagreeing huffs, "I must once again ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

"Like anyone's gonna do _that_," Bryt muttered under her breath.

"As ever," Dumbledore continued, "I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"_What?_" Bryt called out, as well as many other students. She couldn't believe it. No Quidditch? Bryt's favorite sport wasn't going to be taking place this year? Not only that, but Mike and Drew had both been looking forward to seeing Quidditch themselves. They were going to miss that chance, miss a big part of their first year at Hogwarts.

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October," Dumbledore said, "And continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy—but I assure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts—"

Dumbledore cut off as the doors to the Great Hall flew open, accompanied by an ironically well-placed crash of thunder. Bryt looked over to see someone had shown up, but it was hard to see any characteristics to him as he was still wearing a drenched traveling cloak. When he pushed back the hood of his cloak and shook his head to rid himself of rain, Bryt noticed his hair was long and dark, though it seemed almost untamed and rough—not smooth and straight as Julio's was.

Bryt could distinctly hear a thud with every other step the man took and as he came further into the Great Hall, Bryt could see his face more clearly. Hermione obviously could, too, because she let out a shocked gasp.

It seemed that the man had definitely had his share of fights. There didn't seem to be a single part of his face that wasn't scarred and even a large part of his nose was missing. Still, this was nothing compared to the man's eyes. One seemed perfectly normal, small and dark. The other was nearly twice as big, a vivid blue color, and seemed unable to stop moving as it swept the Great Hall, taking in every inch of it. Every face along the tables, every candle floating over his head.

Bryt shuddered, uncomfortable already with this man, and mostly from the constantly-moving, unblinking eye that made her squirm. She still watched, however, as the man made his way up to Dumbledore, holding out a scarred hand, which Dumbledore took with a grin as he said something quietly so no one else could hear. The scarred man shook his head and made a short reply. Dumbledore nodded and motioned to the last empty seat at the staff table, which the stranger took instantly, starting on a plate of food set in front of him, but he seemed to want to study each bite of food before he deemed it worthy enough to put in his mouth.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore addressed the students, "Professor Moody."

There was no applause to greet the new teacher, aside from Dumbledore himself. Every student seemed unable to do anything else but stare at Moody.

"I hope he's not as mean as he looks..." Mike muttered.

"Moody?" Harry whispered from the other side of the table and Bryt looked over to see he was looking at Ron, "_Mad-Eye Moody?_ The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," Ron whispered back, sounding amazed.

"What happened to him?" Hermione asked.

"What'd he do to end up lookin' like _that_?" Bryt added.

"He's an auror, isn't he?" Ron replied and Bryt knew from Sofí and Julio that an auror was about the equivalent of a police man in the Muggle world, "Most of the Dark Wizards in Azkaban were caught by Mad-Eye Moody. I bet none of them went down very willingly."

"As I was saying," Dumbledore said as he cleared his throat to regain the students' attention, "We are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!"

Bryt looked over to Fred, who was staring at Dumbledore in a mixture of disbelief and excitement. She looked over at Harry and Ron, Harry looking just as confused as Bryt while Ron was looking ecstatic. Students all over the Great Hall began to give weak laughs.

"I am _not_ joking, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said, "Though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar..."

McGonagall cleared her throat, giving Dumbledore a stern look. Bryt couldn't help but giggle a little.

"Er—but maybe this is not the time...no...Where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament...Well, some of you will know what this tournament involves, so I will hope those who _do_ know will forgive me for giving a short explanation and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The school took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities—until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Bryt and Hermione echoed, looking at each other with worried expressions. The two worrying seemed in a minority, however, as excited whispers began echoing throughout the room.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "None of which have been very successful. However, our own Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their shortlisted contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred said and Bryt looked over at him as if he were insane. Who would purposely throw themselves into something that's been known to be deadly, just for money? Even if they _have_ ensured that 'there would be no mortal danger'.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said loudly, quieting down the recent uproar of excited whispers, "The Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age—that is to say, seventeen years or older—will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This—" Dumbledore had to raise his voice again as angry shouts filled the room, "Is a measure we feel is necessary, given the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." Dumbledore grinned and Bryt could have sworn that he was looking directly towards the Weasley Twins, "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give them your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Bryt stood up with her friends, ensuring Mike that she'd see him in the morning, and shooed him off towards the Gryffindor Prefects who were calling for the first years.

"They can't do that!" George said loudly, "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

"They're not stopping me from entering," Fred said, "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

"Yeah," Ron said in a dreamy-sort of voice, "Yeah, a thousand Galleons..."

"It's insane," Bryt said, "The Tournament is dangerous. It's idiotic goin' into somethin' like that just for prize money."

"They said they're making it safe," Ron said, "I bet it'd be no more dangerous than a Quidditch match."

"And we all know how dangerous those can be," Hermione pointed out, "Besides, if it's supposed to be 'safe', why ban those who are underage from entering?"

Ron muttered something, but Bryt didn't pay attention. They had reached the staircase now and she noticed Terry up ahead.

"You guys go on," Bryt said, making her way up through the crowd, grabbing onto Terry's arm.

Terry spun around instantly, seeming confused when he noticed Bryt behind him.

"Is everythin' okay?" Bryt asked, "I mean, you didn't stop by to say hi on the train and you seemed...put off durin' the feast."

"You could have just as easily stopped by _my_ compartment, you know," Terry replied and there was an edge to his voice that caused Bryt to tense.

"No, I couldn't have," Bryt replied, "I mean, I told you in my letter that I messed up my ankle. I couldn't exactly go hoppin' through the train to find you."

"I wouldn't have minded if you came and sat with me," Terry crossed his arms over his chest, "I mean, you spent all summer with your friend Hermione, and even stayed at Ron's house for over a week. Yet you still stayed with _them_ on the train."

Bryt gripped her hands into fists, sucking in a deep breath.

"I was there fer my brothers!" Bryt snapped, unable to hold back the hostility rising, "I _told_ yeh they'd be startin' Hogwarts this year, and I promised to sit with them! I had jus' arrived with my friends, so they sat with us! What's the big deal?"

"The 'big deal' is that when you got back from the States," Terry's voice was rising as well, "And you were staying with Ron, I only got one lousy letter from you!"

"I was only back fer a couple of weeks!" Bryt yelled, "And one of that, I was at the Quidditch World Cup! I didn' get an opportunity to write then! First chance I got was when I got to Ron's, and I wrotechya then immediately! There wouldn' be time to write yah back between when I got yer letter and leavin' for Hogwarts!"

"Because you were too busy with your friends to bother with me, right?"

Bryt stared at Terry, gripping her hands tighter. She couldn't believe him. Where was the fun-loving guy she had begun dating at the beginning of the year? The one she spent hours talking about whatever it was that came to mind?

"What is yer _problem_?" Bryt snapped, "So what if I stayed with my friends over the summer? Anthony and Michael stayed at _yer_ place fer a month!"

"That's different!"

"_How?_"

Terry opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked past Bryt, glaring at something. Bryt looked over her shoulder and tensed when she noticed Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still there, standing a few steps above them, staring at them.

"It just is," Terry said in a sharp voice, then turned and stomped off.

Bryt glared after her boyfriend, still wondering what had gotten into him. Still fuming, Bryt spun around and stomped past her friends without a word, wincing each time her injured foot hit the ground, but she didn't care.

"You know..." Ron suddenly spoke up behind Bryt after a few minutes, "If she weren't so bloody terrifying when she's screaming, it would have been funny."

Bryt gripped her hands tighter again, fighting hard not to lash out at Ron as well.

"_Ron!_" Hermione hissed.

"What? It's true. Besides, her old accent starts coming back, and I always thought that accent was funny to begin with—"

"Y'do know I can hear yah, righ'?" Bryt snapped.

Ron didn't answer and the quartet fell silent, which Bryt was grateful for. She couldn't believe how the day had turned out. She had expected today to be great. Her brothers would be starting Hogwarts, she would be able to see her boyfriend again, and a new school year would be beginning. Instead, Drew had ended up alone in a completely different House, Bryt discovered house elves were being enslaved in the school, and she had gotten into a shouting match with Terry—and in front of her friends at that.

All in all, this had been one of the worst days Bryt had ever experienced.


	16. Busy First Day

By the time morning came, the storm had ended. Bryt was still in a bad mood, though, from a mixture of hunger and lack of sleep—she and Hermione had been up half the night trying to find some way to help the house elves. They both decided they would spend their free time in the library, doing research on the history of house elves and begin developing some type of organization to get the elves more rights.

Bryt was eager for breakfast as they reached the bottom of the marble stairway, but stopped when she noticed Drew standing by the doors, playing with his glasses.

"I'll catch up," Bryt said to Harry, Ron, and Hermione before limping over to her brother.

"Hey there," she said and Drew jumped, shoving his glasses back on before looking up at Bryt.

"I was waiting for you," Drew said, "Can...Can we talk?"

Bryt nodded, moving over to the bottom of the marble stairway and sat down. Drew rushed over, sitting next to her.

"Is everythin' okay?" Bryt asked, worried, "Not gettin' on well with the Hufflepuffs?"

"No, that's fine," Drew said, beginning to grin, "The common room is really nice. It's down in the dungeons, right by the kitchen according to our Prefects. And the common room itself is comfortable enough. There's big, overstuffed chairs everywhere. And the hallway and dormitory entrances are these big round holes, leading into these tunnels. Merlin likes it a lot. He kept exploring everything in the dormitory before he finally curled up on my bed and started purring so loud I had trouble getting to sleep."

Bryt grinned at how Drew's voice steadily grew more excited as he talked about his new House. At least he seemed to like the Hufflepuffs. Though after a moment, his excitement and smile vanished again.

"The Hat said I was good for Hufflepuff because I was friendly and kind..." he said, looking down at his lap, "But you and Mike are, too. Why didn't I end up in Gryffindor with you two?"

"I can't answer that," Bryt whispered, putting an arm around her brother, "But I will tell you a secret. I was almost put in Hufflepuff myself."

Drew looked up at Bryt. "How'd you get out of it?"

Bryt sighed. "There's no 'gettin' out of it'," she said, "The Sortin' Hat just thought I belonged in Gryffindor. Just like you belong in Hufflepuff. And as a friend once told me when I doubted bein' a Gryffindor...You may not know why you're in Hufflepuff now, but one day you'll understand."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Bryt said, "I'm your big sister, remember? You always know you can count on me. Besides, I bet you'll be makin' friends before you know it."

Drew grinned a little.

"One boy in my year, Kevin," he said, "He's really nice. He kept talking to me during dinner last night...I think he was trying to cheer me up..."

'_Sounds like a Hufflepuff to me,'_ Bryt thought, then said out loud to Drew, "Definitely sounds like he could be a good friend. C'mon, you should go eat breakfast. You got a busy day, I bet. And I'm sure your new friend is lookin' for you."

Drew nodded, standing up and looking back at Bryt.

"You and Mike aren't upset, are you?" he asked, "That I ended up in a different House?"

Bryt stood up herself, looking at her brother. "Of course not," she said truthfully. She had been upset the night before, but she could see that Drew was adjusting well enough in Hufflepuff. He would most likely end up enjoying being in the House before too much longer.

Drew grinned, obviously relieved, and headed on into the Great Hall. Once at the Hufflepuff table, Drew said goodbye before heading off to sit next to the boy who had been talking with him the night before after the Sorting.

Bryt sat down next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table, taking a couple of pieces of bacon as she looked over her schedule. Herbology with Hufflepuff and Care of Magical Creatures with Slytherin in the morning, then, much to Bryt's dismay, double Divination in the afternoon. If it weren't for the fact that Bryt had to have two elective classes, she would have given up Divination. The class was all about nonsense guess work that was simply a waste of time.

"Good morning, Bryt!"

Bryt looked up to see Mike had shown up, though he wasn't alone. With him was a cute, freckly girl with a rounded face, big blue eyes, and strawberry-blonde hair that she had pulled into high, sloppy pigtails.

"Hey Mike," Bryt said with a grin herself, "Who's your new friend?"

"Natalie," Mike answered, "She was Sorted into Gryffindor last night, too!"

"Good morning," Natalie said brightly. Bryt grinned back, vaguely remembering hearing the name Natalie called during the Sorting.

"You two wanna sit down?" Bryt asked and she heard Ron give a groan from the other side of the table. She simply kicked at her friend, which caused him to let out a loud yelp.

Mike shook his head. "I just wanted to say good morning," he said, "Natalie and I just got our schedules. We were about to head to Charms, that's first!"

Bryt couldn't help but giggle at his enthusiasm. Mike adjusted to things so easily, and he already had made himself a good friend.

"Look, Bryt!" Mike held out a piece of parchment and Bryt leaned over, noticing it was her brother's schedule as he continued, "We have Potions with Hufflepuffs! I have a class with Drew!"

"That's great!" Bryt said, relieved. She had hoped that Mike and Drew would have a class together, and was glad that it was Potions. She knew how Snape disliked any student outside of Slytherin, and had a feeling that he might target Mike or Drew simply for being Bryt's younger siblings. It was a good thing the two of them would be together and wouldn't have to face Snape on their own.

"We should get going, Mikey," Natalie said and Bryt noticed her brother groan at the nickname, "We've got to find our way to the Charms class."

"Right," Mike said with a nod, "See you, Bryt!"

The two first years turned, heading off towards the door, already talking about some subject that Bryt couldn't hear. She grinned, shaking her head and turning back to her friends.

"Good to see he's adjusting well," Hermione said.

"Yeah, I just wish Drew would, too," Bryt replied, sticking a piece of bacon in her mouth as hundreds of owls began swooping in the room above them. Bryt didn't have any letters, but she did have a copy of _The Daily Prophet_.

As Bryt grabbed her paper, she instantly recognized the couple and the house on the front page. She looked up at the headline—which read _FUTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_—and sighed.

"Ron, seems your dad's made the paper again," Bryt said, "Not in a good way, it's Rita Skeeter after all."

Ron looked up, gripping his spoon tightly in his hand. "What does it say?" he asked sharply.

"Probably nothin' good," Bryt said, then cleared her throat and began to read it out loud, "_'It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, _writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent._ Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account or the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.'_" Ron tensed at the mistake in his father's name and Bryt tried to ignore it as she continued. "_'Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flyin' car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle lawkeepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisin'ly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer _Daily Prophet_ questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassin' scene.'_"

Bryt sighed, putting down the paper and noticing Ron glaring at it.

"Don't let it get to you," Bryt said, "Skeeter's full of rubbish. I bet people won't pay any attention to somethin' like this."

"Anyway, we should get down to Herbology," Hermione said, standing up.

Bryt stood up, heading off with her friends. The morning air was pleasantly cool from the storm the night before and pale gray clouds still hung over them, though there didn't seem any hint of more rain coming.

Once in greenhouse three, Bryt blinked as she noticed the plants that Sprout, the Herbology professor, had set up for them. Bryt stared at them, at first thinking that Sprout had brought them some type of creature. The plants looked like upright, giant black slugs with odd, round growths on them.

"Bubotubers," Sprout said, and Bryt recognized the name due to the fact that bubotuber pus was used in some potions for getting rid of acme, but could be very dangerous when handled incorrectly, "You will collect the pus—"

"The _what_?" Seamus cut in, looking almost horrified.

"Pus, Finnigan, pus," Sprout replied, "And it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

Bryt was miserable the entire class. Collecting the pus into the bottles was easy enough, but it was the smell that got to her. The pus smelled strongly like gasoline, leaving Bryt nauseous and gagging occasionally throughout the entire class. She was extremely relieved when the bell sounded through the grounds and she could leave the gasoline-smelling greenhouse.

Bryt took several deep breaths of the fresh morning air, trying to rid herself of the last bit of gasoline smell, as they headed across the grounds towards Hagrid's hut by the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid was waiting for them, holding onto the collar of his massive boarhound, Fang. Bryt noticed several open crates scattered around nearby, giving off strange bangs and rattling noises.

"Mornin'!" Hagrid said with a grin, "Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want ter miss this—Blast-Ended Skrewts!"

"What?" Bryt asked, scrunching her face as she tried to remember where she read about them. No matter how hard she tried, though, she couldn't remember ever coming across the name.

Lavender made a noise of disgust as she looked in the crates. Bryt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione peered in as well. What was inside looked like dozens of mutated, shell-less lobsters, with several extra legs and some having some type of stingers. Bryt noticed they smelled strongly like rotten fish, which Bryt thought wasn't much of an improvement from the gasoline smell of the bubotuber pus. As one of them suddenly gave off sparks and shot across the box, Bryt couldn't help but giggle, which gained her odd looks from the other Gryffindors.

"On'y jus' hatched," Hagrid said happily, "So yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"

"And why would we _want_ to raise them?"

Bryt spun around, glaring at Malfoy, who had just arrived with the rest of the Slytherins.

"I mean, what do they do?" Malfoy continued, "What is the _point_ of them?"

Hagrid stayed quiet for a few seconds, then cleared his throat. "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy," he said, "Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things—I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer—I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake—just try 'em out with a bit of each."

"I think they're fascinatin'," Bryt said as she took a handful of frog livers, putting it down into the box, "I wonder where Hagrid got them. I've never heard of Blast-Ended Skrewts before."

Dean suddenly yelled out and Bryt looked up as he held up his hand, which seemed to have a small burn on it. "It's end exploded!" he cried out.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," Hagrid replied.

"Eurgh," Lavender pointed at one of the infant creatures, "Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?"

"Ah, some of 'em have got stings," Hagrid replied, and Lavender immediately yanked her hand out of the crate, "I reckon they're the males...The females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies...I think they might be ter suck blood."

"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," Malfoy said in a sarcastic, loud voice, "Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?"

"Just because they're not pretty, it doesn't mean they're not useful," Hermione shot back just as Bryt was about to speak up, "Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon as a pet, would you?"

Bryt grinned as Malfoy fell silent, luckily not saying anything else throughout the rest of class.

"Well, at least the skrewts are small," Ron said as they headed to the castle for lunch.

"They are _now_," Hermione said, "But once Hagrid's found out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long."

"Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?" Ron asked with a smirk.

"You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Malfoy up. As a matter of fact I think he's right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all."

"Hermione!" Bryt hissed as they reached the castle, "Even if they _might_ be dangerous, that's no excuse to wipe them out! They're still livin' creatures! Besides, by your logic, we might as well smash any dragon egg we find just so they won't attack anyone when _they_ go up!"

"Oi! Bryt!"

Hermione was spared having to reply to Bryt's rant as the blonde turned, seeing Terry heading towards them. Obviously, he had been waiting in the entrance hall, probably wanting to catch Bryt before she went into lunch.

"Come to yell at her for being with her friends again?" Ron snapped. Bryt glared at him. Ron had never liked Bryt's boyfriend—for whatever reason, Bryt didn't know—and was obviously taking strong offense to Terry's comments from last night.

"You three go on," Bryt said, turning back to Terry, who was glaring back at Ron until he, Harry, and Hermione finally went into the Great Hall.

Bryt stood there for a second, waiting on Terry to speak first, but he just continued to stand where he was.

"So..." Bryt finally said, clearing her throat after several seconds passed.

Terry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Listen," he said slowly, "About last night..."

"About yellin' at me 'cause I was with my friends?" Bryt asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Look, I'm sorry about yelling like that," Terry said, "But I still think you're starting to prefer being with your friends over me."

"C'mon, Ter, that's not true," Bryt said, tensing and fighting back her already rising anger.

"It seems like it," Terry said, "You do spend a lot of time with them."

"They're my _friends_!" Bryt snapped, unable to hold back, "Of _course_ I spend time with 'em!"

"And how do I know that's where it stops?" Terry raised his voice as well, "You spend all your time with them, you could easily be going behind my back with Harry or Ron!"

"Yer _mental_!" Bryt yelled, "I ain't about to get with Harry or Ron! That's...They're my friends! I can't _believe_ yer even thinkin' that!"

"And what am I supposed to think?" Terry yelled back, "When you send me letters about how excited you are about the Quidditch World Cup, and that you'd be there with your friends, then go off and spend the last of your holidays at Ron's?"

Bryt gave a frustrated groan, fighting back an increasing urge to punch Terry for his stupidity. Terry didn't even trust her! With something like that, only one option came up for Bryt and she acted on it instantly.

"If you can't even trust me to have friends," Bryt yelled, "Then I don' think we should be datin'!"

"My thoughts exactly! Glad it's settled!"

"_Fine!_"

Bryt spun around, ignoring the stares from the audience they had gathered from their shouting match, and headed into the Great Hall. She headed over for the Gryffindor table, throwing herself down in an empty spot across from Harry and Ron.

"Don' talk to me," Bryt snapped before any of her friends could say anything, slamming food on her plate and stabbing at it with her fork.

All through lunch, Bryt kept her mind on her and Terry's breakup. She couldn't imagine what had gotten into Terry. After all, Bryt had been friends with Harry and Ron long before she started dating Terry, and still spent a lot of time with her friends.

"Why does everyone seem to think guys and girls can't be friends without secretly datin'?" Bryt asked far into the lunch, after her anger finally started to subside a bit.

Harry and Ron both stared at Bryt in confusion. For the first time, Bryt noticed Hermione wasn't there. She didn't pay it any mind, though, knowing Hermione was most likely in the library to research the history of house elves.

"Terry seems to think I'm secretly datin' one of you," Bryt explained, "We just broke up over it."

"I always knew Boot was no good," Ron said simply, glaring off towards the Ravenclaw table.

Bryt sighed, not bothering to say anything else for the rest of lunch. When it came time for afternoon classes, Bryt was very tempted to just skip Divination and go to the library, desperate to get her mind off what happened by working on her latest project with Hermione. Instead, Bryt hiked her way up to the North Tower with Harry and Ron. After climbing the stepladder into the classroom—which Bryt often thought resembled a tea shop ran by eccentric old people—Bryt, Harry, and Ron sat down at a table as far from Trelawney's usual chair as they could get.

"Good day," Trelawney spoke up and Bryt sighed, thinking this day had been anything but.

As usual, Trelawney looked very much deserving of Bryt's appointed nickname 'Tre_loony_'. Her glasses seemed to magnify her eyes, making them seem far too large for her face, and she wore so many bracelets, beads, and necklaces, Bryt often wondered how she could move with that weight.

"You are preoccupied, my dear," Trelawney looked towards Harry, speaking as if to someone on their deathbed(Bryt gave an annoyed sigh over this), "My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas...most difficult...I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass...and perhaps sooner than you think..."

Bryt and Ron rolled their eyes simultaneously as Trelawney headed back to the front of the class, sitting in her usual armchair. Lavender and Parvati, who were probably the only two people in the class who were actually interested in Divination, leaned forward at their table.

"My dears," Trelawney began, "The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand the steps of the celestial dance."

'_Enough,'_ Bryt thought, pulling out a piece of parchment and her quill.

_Possible names._ Bryt wrote at the top of the parchment, tuning out Trelawney as she focused on the organization she and Hermione planned to start to help house elves.

_House Elves Are People Too._

'_No, that's just ridiculous,' _Bryt thought, running a line through the name.

_Society for the Protection of Elf Rights Management._

'_No, not quite right,'_ Bryt thought, marking through the name.

_Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status._

'_Far too long.'_ Another line through the name.

_Society for the Protection Against House Elf Abuse._

'_That one might work...'_ Bryt marked the title with a small star for consideration.

"_Harry!_"

"What?"

Bryt looked up at her friends and noticed almost everyone in the classroom was staring at Harry, who looked as if he had just been woken up. Bryt couldn't blame him for falling asleep in Divination. Not only was the class more boring than History of Magic (which was an amazing feat in itself) the classroom was always quite warm and filled with pleasant smells that seemed determined to lull the students into sleep.

"I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn," Trelawney said, obviously displeased that Harry hadn't been clinging to her every word.

"Born under—what, sorry?"

"Saturn, dear, the planet Saturn! I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth...Your dark hair...Your mean stature...Tragic losses so young in life...I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in midwinter?"

"No. I was born in July."

Bryt and Ron both started to laugh, then covered it with coughs.

Afterward, Bryt was forced to put away her house elf project aside as the class had to begin filling out complex charts on the position of the planets when they were born. Bryt hated the project, but forced herself to concentrate and make her way through it.

"I've got two Neptunes here," Harry whispered, "That can't be right, can it?"

"Aaaah," Ron imitated Trelawney's mystical voice almost perfectly, "When two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget in glasses is being born, Harry..."

Bryt gave a snort, as did Seamus and Dean nearby. Luckily, Trelawney didn't notice because Lavender had suddenly given a loud squeal nearby.

"Oh Professor, look! I think I've got an unaspected planet! Ooooh, which one's that, Professor?"

"It is Uranus, my dear," Trelawney said.

"Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender?" Ron asked and Bryt elbowed him hard in the side, muttering 'childish'.

Unfortunately, Trelawney heard Ron's comment. In response, the class was given a long, time-consuming homework assignment.

"'_A detailed analysis of the way planetary movements in the coming moth will affect you, with reference to your personal chart'_," Bryt hissed, mimicking Trelawney's annoyed voice as she, Harry, and Ron started down towards the Great Hall for dinner, "_'I want it ready to hand in next Monday, and no excuses!' _Merlin, I hate Treloony."

"This is going to take all weekend..." Ron said with a groan.

"Good thing I ain't got plans," Bryt said sourly. Just yesterday, she had been hoping to spend the weekend relaxing and catching up more with Terry. Now that their relationship had ended, however, those plans were off.

"Lots of homework?"

Bryt glanced up to notice Hermione was coming towards them, grinning.

"Professor Vector didn't give _us_ any at all!" Hermione continued.

"Well, bully for Professor Vector," Ron shot back.

"I got somethin' to show you when we get to the library," Bryt said to Hermione and Harry and Ron both looked over at Bryt curiously. She ignored them, though, as they reached the bottom of the staircase where a crowd of students were already making their way into the Great Hall.

"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"

Bryt groaned when she heard Malfoy and turned with her friends to see her most-hated classmate nearby(accompanied by his usual pair of thugs), looking overly pleased.

"What?" Ron snapped.

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" Malfoy said, waving a copy of _The Daily Prophet_.

"Yeah, we know," Bryt snapped, "I get the _Prophet_, too, Malfoy." Bryt turned away, grabbing Ron's arm, knowing he'd probably launch himself at Malfoy if they didn't get moving.

Malfoy, however, didn't seem to be done with his taunting. Robbed of his chance to rub the article on Ron's face, Malfoy switched to a different tactic.

"Saw the picture of your parents in front of your house, Weasley!" Malfoy said loudly, "If you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

"Shove off, Malfoy!" Bryt snapped, starting forward but Hermione grabbed onto her arm. Harry had to grab onto Ron as he had started forward when Bryt had let go of him.

Malfoy stepped back, but regained himself with a smirk as he noticed Bryt was being restrained.

"A bit sensitive over weight, are you Watkins?" Malfoy taunted, "You and Mrs. Weasley are—"

"You know _your_ mother, Malfoy?" Harry cut in, struggling to hold Ron back as he tried to pull free again, "That expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"

"Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter!" Malfoy snapped, going pink in the face.

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," Harry shot back, turning away with Ron. Hermione followed suit, forcing Bryt to turn and start back towards the Great Hall. There was suddenly a loud bang and Bryt saw something flash past Harry from the corner of her eye. Bryt spun around just as a second bang sounded and Mad-Eye Moody was coming down the stairway, his wand out.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!" Moody yelled and Bryt noticed he had his wand aimed at a small, white ferret in the spot that Malfoy had been moments ago. Bryt couldn't help but give a snort as she realized what happened, which was the only noise in the now-silent hallway.

"Did he get you?" Moody asked, looked towards Harry, though his large, blue eye was still on the ferret.

"No. Missed," Harry replied.

"LEAVE IT!"

"Leave—what?"

"Not you—him!" Moody motioned over his shoulder and Bryt, relieved to have an excuse to look away from Moody with the magical eye solid white due to being rolled up in his head, looked towards where Moody had motioned and noticed Crabbe had be just about to pick up ferret-Malfoy.

Moody started towards the three and the ferret let out a loud squeal, running off towards the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" Moody yelled, aiming his wands towards ferret-Malfoy. With a yell, he was flung into the air before hitting the ground and bouncing upward again.

Bryt clutched her hands into fists, sucking in a sharp breath and glaring at Moody. Sure, she hated Malfoy and thought him being turned into a ferret was just what the slimy git deserved, but what Moody was doing now was almost torture.

"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," Moody said in a low voice, still bouncing ferret-Malfoy, "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do...Never—do—that—again—" Moody bounced Malfoy between each word and Bryt winced with each hit.

"Professor Moody!"

Bryt looked away and saw McGonagall on the stairs with an armful of books, staring at Moody in shock.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Moody said simply.

"What—what are you doing?" McGonagall's voice rose slightly as she stared wide-eyed at the bouncing ferret.

"Teaching."

"Teach—Moody, _is that a student_?" McGonagall shrieked, dropping her books.

"Yep."

"No!" McGonagall came on down the stairway, pulling out her wand and aiming it at the ferret. With a loud snap, Malfoy was suddenly restored to normal, looking terrified and as if he were in pain. Bryt stared at him, feeling a mixture of pity, and thinking that Malfoy had finally gotten a taste of his own medicine—not that she expected him to change the way he acted anytime soon.

"Moody, we _never_ use transfiguration as a punishment!" McGonagall rounded towards her fellow teacher, "Surely Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it, yeah," Moody replied simply, "But I thought a good sharp shock—"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that, then," Moody turned back to Malfoy, glaring at the boy.

Malfoy stared back, obviously still shaken over his experience, and muttered something under his breath. Moody still seemed to hear it clearly, though.

"Oh yeah?" Moody moved forward, "Well, I know your father of old, boy...You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son...You tell him that from me...Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," Malfoy said lowly.

"Another old friend," Moody replied, grabbing Malfoy by the arm and hauling him to his feet, "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape...Come on, you..."

"Don't talk to me," Ron said as they started back into the Great Hall, heading towards the Gryffindor table.

"Why not?" Hermione asked as they all sat down.

"Because I want to fix that in my memory forever," Ron started grinning as he closed his eyes, "Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret..."

Bryt couldn't help but laugh over that, as did Harry and Hermione.

"He could have really hurt Malfoy, though," Hermione said, and Bryt was relieved that she hadn't been the only one who seemed conflicted over what Moody had done, "It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it—"

"Hermione!" Ron groaned, "You're ruining the best moment of my life!"

"If that was your best moment," Bryt said, piling food on her plate, "Then you need serious help."

Ron glared at Bryt and she just grinned back, starting to eat quickly. Once she and Hermione were both done eating, they said goodbye to their friends and stood up. As they started to leave, Bryt looked along the Gryffindor table and noticed Mike was talking excitedly with little Natalie, obviously enjoying himself. Bryt looked off towards the Hufflepuff table next, relieved to see that Drew seemed to at least be a little more comfortable in his House. He was sitting with the boy he had mentioned that morning, as well as another boy with dark brown hair. The two other boys were doing most of the talking, but Drew was still grinning and occasionally adding to the conversation himself.

"What did you want to show me?" Hermione asked as they started up the stairway to the library.

"Oh," Bryt said, fishing the parchment from her bag and handing it over to Hermione, "I was thinkin' on names for our organization."

"Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status," Hermione read through one of the names Bryt had crossed off, "That one sounds promising."

"It's way too long, though."

"I know," Hermione said, furrowing her brow in thought, "But we can use that in our manifesto." Hermione paused, looking at the last one on Bryt's list, "Society for the Protection Against House Elf Abuse...That's good, but not quite there...We'll need something that really catches someone's attention."

"Like what?" Bryt asked as they reached the library, heading inside and finding an empty table for her and Hermione to work at.

"I don't know," Hermione sighed, shaking her head, "We can work that out later, though. Right now, we need to keep working on our research."

Bryt nodded. "I'll see if there's anythin' to help," she said, getting back up and starting for the nearby shelves to look over the books. Even if it took years, she and Hermione were determined that they would make a difference for house elves everywhere.


	17. The Worst Curses

Over the next two days, every moment of Bryt's spare time was spent in the library with Hermione as the two continued to research house elves and build their organization(which they had finally decided to name the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare). This helped Bryt a lot with keeping her mind off her breakup with Terry. Along with the fact that Bryt had no classes with the Ravenclaws, so there were very little chances of her running into Terry, it wasn't long until Bryt was almost never thinking about what had happened.

In fact, the two girls had been so distracted with their work on Thursday after lunch that they were almost late for their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. They managed to reach the crowd of fourth year Gryffindors just as the bell began to ring through the castle. Bryt and Hermione took seats behind Harry and Ron towards the front of the classroom and took out their copies of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ as they waited for Moody to arrive.

It wasn't long before the class could hear the distinctive thud of Moody's wooden leg as he approached. Bryt glanced over her shoulder as the scarred man entered the room, looking over the students as if studying them.

"You can put those away," Moody said as he sat at his desk, "Those books. You won't need them."

Bryt exchanged a curious glance with Hermione as the students slowly put their books back into their bags. Once Moody was sure every book was away, he took a piece of parchment for a roll call, letting his magical eye focus on each student as they answered to their name.

"Right then," Moody said once he was sure all students were there, "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures—you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?" After a low muttering of agreements, Moody continued. "But you're behind—very behind—on dealing with curses. So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark—"

"What?" Ron asked, "You aren't staying?"

Moody turned towards Ron, who tensed in his seat. After a moment, Moody gave a grin. Bryt fidgeted slightly, noticing how the grin just seemed to make Moody's face look even more twisted and scarred.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody asked, "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago...Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore...One year, then back to my quiet retirement. So—straight to it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."

Bryt turned to look as Lavender jumped in her seat, blushing brightly. She had been showing something to Parvati from under the desk and obviously Moody had noticed.

"So..." Moody continued and Bryt looked back to their teacher, "Do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

A few students(Hermione and Ron included) raised their hands slowly, as if unsure they wanted to give an answer. Moody kept his magical eye on Lavender as he motioned for Ron to answer.

"Er, my dad told me about one..."Ron said little hesitantly, "Is it called the Imperius Curse or something?"

"Ah, yes. Your father _would_ know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."

Moody got to his feet and pulled out a jar that held three spiders. Ron jerked back in his chair so that it hit the front of Bryt's desk and Bryt couldn't blame him. After all, Ron was terrified of spiders.

Moody didn't seem to notice Ron, however, as he pulled one of the spiders from the jar and held out his hand, letting the spider crawl around on his palm. Bryt stared with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension as Moody aimed his wand at the spider and said "_Imperio!_"

The spider leapt forward on its threat and began to swing back and forth. Bryt didn't want to watch any further than that, focusing her gaze on Moody, gripping her hands tightly on the edge of her desk as she glared at their teacher. She couldn't understand why the rest of the class was laughing. After all, it was obvious what the curse was doing. Moody was controlling the spider. Forcing it to do things against its will. Nothing like that could ever be funny to Bryt.

"Think it's funny, do you?" Moody asked, obviously in agreement with Bryt, "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

Everyone else's laughter died at once, which Bryt was grateful for.

"Total control," Moody said quietly with a wave of his wand, but Bryt refused to look to the spider, still glaring at the man, "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats...Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse. Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and two was acting of their own free will.

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Bryt, along with everyone else in the class, jumped as Moody yelled out the last part. Bryt took a deep breath as Moody replaced the spider in the jar.

"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Once again, Hermione's hand went into the air along with a few more hesitant ones. Bryt was surprised to notice Neville was among them, though he looked almost terrified.

"Yes?" Moody turned to Neville, who seemed to look even more terrified at being called on.

"There's one—the Cruciatus Curse," Neville managed quietly.

"Your name's Longbottom?" Moody asked, studying Neville with his normal eye as he magical one went over the parchment of student names. Neville gave a small nod and Moody turned away, pulling out a second spider from the jar.

"The Cruciatus Curse," Moody said, placing the spider down on his desk, "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea. _Engorgio!_"

As the spider grew larger, Ron tried to push his chair back more, knocking it harder into Bryt's desk. Once the spider was only a little larger than a tarantula, Moody aimed his wand at it again and went "_Crucio!_"

The spider began twitching, obviously in pain as it rolled onto its back. Bryt sucked in a deep breath, jerking her head to the side, not wanting to watch, and noticed Neville nearby. He was staring at the spider, looking as if he had been Petrified, his hands gripped so tightly on his desk that his knuckles were going white. Bryt's breath caught in her throat as her mind screamed at her to stay something, that she had to stop it, but she couldn't seem to get her mouth to work.

"Stop it!" Hermione said in a high voice.

Bryt jumped, looking at Hermione, who had been staring at Neville as well. Bryt was relieved that Hermione had been able to speak up. It was obvious that Neville wouldn't have been able to handle watching the spider much longer. Bryt took a deep breath and glanced down at her desk, realizing her hands were gripped into tight fists and were trembling.

"Pain," Moody said and Bryt looked back to him as he replaced the spider—which had been returned to normal size—back into the jar, "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse...That one was very popular too.

"Right...Anyone know any others?"

Hermione slowly raised her hand in the air, trembling nearly as much as Bryt.

"Yes?" Moody asked.

"_Avada Kedavra_," Hermione muttered, keeping her head down.

"Ah," Moody said, "Yes, the last and worst. _Avada Kedavra_...The Killing Curse."

Bryt tensed as Moody pulled the last spider from the jar and put it on the desk where the spider started running for safety. As Moody lifted his wand, Bryt turned away, squeezing her eyes shut and gripping the sides of her desk.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Something lit up the room as a quick rushing noise went through the air. Several stifled cries echoed through the room and Bryt forced herself to look up where the spider was on its back, unmistakably dead.

"Not nice," Moody said, swiping away the dead spider, "Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

Bryt instinctively looked over to Harry. She knew the stories about his survival as an infant, how he had survived when no one ever had before. It was one thing knowing about it, but it was something entirely different witnessing first-hand the curse that had been meant to kill him. One that had killed so many, including Harry's parents. Bryt couldn't imagine what was going through Harry's mind at the moment.

"_Avada Kedavra_'s a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it," Moody continued, "You could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

"Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Bryt jumped, turning to Moody. She flexed her hands slightly, as they had started to go numb from her gripping them so tightly.

"Now...those three curses—_Avada Kedavra_, Imperius, and Cruciatus—are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban."

'_But it's apparently perfectly fine to use them on innocent creatures,'_ Bryt thought sourly, glancing over at the jar with the surviving spiders.

"That's what you're up against," Moody continued, "That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice _constant, never-ceasing vigilance_. Get out your quills...Copy this down..."

The class was unusually quiet, the only sound coming from quills scratching across parchment. Bryt found herself glad that Moody was only going to be staying for the year. Though if classes continued the way this one had, Bryt wasn't sure how many she would be able to take.

Bryt was relieved when the bell rang. She packed her things as quickly as she could. Students around her began talking excitedly about the lesson, which Bryt found disgusting. There should be nothing entertaining about what Moody had done to those spiders.

Eager to get out of the classroom, Bryt hadn't even waited for her friends. On her way out, she bumped into someone and turned just in time to see Neville had been just as in a hurry to leave, though he stopped not much further down the hallway.

"Neville?" Bryt started cautiously, heading over to the boy, who was still looking terrified. He seemed to jump before turning to Bryt just as Hermione, Harry, and Ron caught up to them.

"Oh, hello," Neville said in a high voice, "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm—I'm starving, aren't you?"

Bryt shook her head. "I didn't find that lesson interestin' at all," she said, "What Professor Moody did was cruel."

Neville looked at Bryt with an unreadable expression, nervously playing with the strap of his bag.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville said, his voice getting higher.

"You sure?" Bryt asked.

Neville didn't get to answer as the familiar sound of Moody's odd footsteps came up behind them and they all turned towards the man.

"It's all right, sonny," Moody said to Neville, his tone surprisingly softer than it had been during the class, "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on...We can have a cup of tea..."

Neville didn't respond, looking (if possible) even more terrified.

"You all right, are you, Potter?" Moody asked, his magical eye focusing on Harry.

"Yes," Harry said shortly. Moody didn't seem to believe it, his magical eye still focused on Harry.

"You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, _but you've got to know_. No point pretending...Well...Come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you."

Neville looked over to Harry, Ron, Bryt, and Hermione. Bryt opened her mouth, trying to come up with some excuse to get Neville out of his situation, but Moody was already leading the boy away.

"What was that about?" Ron asked once Moody and Neville were out of sight.

"Dunno," Bryt said slowly, "I think I'm gonna head back to the common room."

"What? You're not eating dinner?" Ron asked in shock.

"Not hungry," Bryt answered and Ron's shocked expression turned to worry. After all, Bryt not wanting to eat was as rare as if she suddenly started passing Transfiguration with flying colors.

Bryt didn't wait for her friends to prompt further as she turned and headed off down the hallway, unable to keep her mind off the class and Neville's reaction. The class had been unnerving, definitely, and Bryt never wanted to see the curses again. Though Neville's reaction had been different when it came to the Cruciatus Curse. It wasn't just unnerving for him. He had seemed downright terrified. Bryt couldn't help but worry about Neville and wonder why he had reacted as he did.

"Bladerdash," Bryt said as she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who guarded the Gryffindor common room.

The room seemed empty, as most students were down enjoying dinner. Bryt was grateful for the quiet and tried to push away thoughts of her Defense Against the Dark Arts class and Neville, deciding she might as well try to get started on the Divination homework that was due on Monday. She went up to her dormitory and grabbed her copy of _Unfogging the Future_ before headed back into the common room, finding her favorite spot near the fireplace. Bryt had been so focused on trying to fight her way through the assignment that it startled her when the porthole opened again. Bryt looked up to see Neville come in, clutching a book against him, though he seemed calmer than he had during class.

"Hey Neville," Bryt said, grinning a little, "You look better."

"Oh, yes, I am," Neville said, coming closer and Bryt blinked as she noticed Neville's eyes seemed red—as if he had been crying.

"You okay?" Bryt asked, putting her quill down and standing up, "Professor Moody didn't say anythin' to upset you, did he?"

"No, no," Neville said, shaking his head, "No, tea with him was almost nice. He let me borrow this." Neville held out his book and Bryt noticed the title. _Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean_. "Apparently Professor Sprout told him that I'm good at Herbology and he thought I'd like it."

Bryt grinned at the pride that crept into Neville's voice. If there was one thing Neville was good at, it was Herbology.

"That's great, Neville," Bryt said, "But you sure you're okay? I mean, the lesson was really rough today. I know _I_ could barely make it through it."

Neville stayed quiet for a minute, seeming to be in a bit of a daze. Bryt was about to ask her question again, but Neville snapped out of his daze on his own as more students began coming into the common room. He glanced over his shoulder, then back to Bryt.

"I'm fine," he said again, "But...Thanks. For asking, I mean...I, um...I kind of want to start reading this."

"Sure, fine," Bryt said with a nod and a grin, "If you wanna talk about anythin' though, I'm willin' to listen."

Neville nodded, muttered another 'thanks', and turned, heading up to the boys' dormitories. Bryt watched until he disappeared before turning back to her homework. She had barely picked up her quill, however, as she was suddenly grabbed on the arm. Bryt jerked away, looking up to see Mike and Natalie had come up, Natalie looking amused and Mike almost terrified.

"Mike, what's wrong?" Bryt asked instantly, putting down her quill again.

"You got to hide us!" Mike whispered urgently and Natalie started giggling. Bryt gave her brother's friend a strange look.

"I have my own hiding place, Mikey," Natalie said, giving a sweet grin before heading for the girls' dormitories, her pigtails bouncing as she went.

"Traitor," Mike hissed, then he spun around as the porthole opened again and Bryt looked up to see the Creevey brothers had come in.

"Hide me!" Mike whispered, ducking out of sight on the other side of Bryt's chair.

Bryt gave a snort, fighting hard to keep from laughing, but found it impossible not to grin as she looked at Mike, who was crouched down to hide himself the best he could.

"C'mon, Mike," she said, "The Creeveys are annoyin', but they're not anythin' to be scared of."

"You don't share a room with either of them," Mike answered shortly, "Ever since Dennis Creevey realized I'm related to one of 'The Harry Potter's best friends, he won't leave me alone. He won't even let me go to sleep!"

Bryt shook her head, looking towards Colin and Dennis. They were sitting on their own in one corner of the common room, talking excitedly about one thing or another. Neither seemed that interested in specifically hunting out Mike, but she couldn't blame her brother for wanting to avoid them. Running across the common room and diving behind a chair to hide, however, seemed more like overreacting.

Still, Mike seemed to think his actions were completely rational. He refused to move from his new hiding place and Bryt finally gave up trying, deciding to go back to her homework.

Not too long after, Harry and Ron sat on the other side of the table with their own copies of _Unfogging the Future_. Both blinked in confusion when they noticed Mike.

"He's hidin' from the Creeveys," Bryt said.

Ron laughed as Harry muttered 'Can't blame him.' Bryt rolled her eyes at them, but grinned.

"You should get started on this," Bryt said, motioning her partially-finished Divination homework, "It's a huge headache."

"You could let us copy," Ron said.

"Love to," Bryt replied, then smacked Ron's hand as he reached over, "But you know there's no way Treloony would let us turn in three identical prediction charts when they're all supposed to be unique to us."

Ron grumbled under his breath before flipping open his book to get to work. At one point, Mike finally braved leaving his hiding place, heading towards a couple of other first year boys to work on homework.

"I haven't got a clue what this lot's supposed to mean," Harry said nearly an hour later, staring blankly at a page in his book.

"I still can't figure out how Sofí _enjoys_ this mess," Bryt said.

"Because she's _mental_," Ron replied, "Though, for us, I think it's time for the old Divination standby."

"Make it up?" Harry and Bryt asked.

"Yeah," Ron answered, grinning as he pushed away their scattered notes.

"I'm fine with that," Bryt said, grinning herself as she dipped her quill back in the ink bottle.

"Okay, next Monday," Ron said, "I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter."

"Let's see..." Bryt said, tapping her finger on the edge of her quill as she scanned the list in her book, "I'll be...Thrown into an uncomfortable situation."

"Right," Harry went to his own new chart, "Okay...On Monday, _I_ will be in danger of—er—burns."

"Yeah, you will be," Ron said, "We're seeing the skrewts again on Monday. Okay, Tuesday, _I'll_...erm..."

"Lose a treasured possession," Harry said, reading from his book.

"I was just gonna put that," Bryt said, "Oh well. I'll...um...Have a bad fall."

"Twist your other ankle?" Ron asked with a smirk.

"Oh, of course," Bryt said, laughing.

"I think I'll..." Harry said slowly, going over the list.

"Why don't you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend?" Ron suggested.

"Yeah...cool...Because...Venus is in the twelfth house."

"Wednesday, I think I'll come off worse in a fight," Ron said.

"I'll..." Bryt started, "Lose a close friend."

"And I'll lose a bet," Harry said.

"Yeah, you'll be betting I'll win my fight..."

Bryt laughed as they continued, working for nearly an hour, making one dramatic prediction after another while the common room slowly emptied around them.

"Done!" Bryt said happily, dropping her quill and reaching over to scratch Crookshanks behind the ear.

Hermione came in then, hurrying over to the group with a piece of parchment and a box. Bryt grinned brightly as Hermione sat down.

"You finished?" she asked, reaching over for the box, "Wish I could have helped, but I had to get this work done."

"This the reason you and Hermione have been hiding in the library all the time?" Ron asked as Bryt opened the box, grinning at the dozens of badges of different colors, though each were labeled 'SPEW'.

"'Spew'?" Harry asked, picking up a badge, "What's this about?"

"S-P-E-W, Harry," Bryt corrected.

"It stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare," Hermione said.

"Never heard of it," Ron said.

"Probably 'cause Hermione and I are just startin' it," Bryt said, grinning.

"How many members have you got?"

"Well—if you two join," Hermione said, looking between Harry and Ron, "Four."

Ron snorted.

"You think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew', do you?"

"_S-P-E-W!_" Bryt and Hermione corrected.

"And our manifesto heading is 'Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status'," Hermione added.

"Hermione and I have been doin' a lot of research," Bryt said, "I can't believe that the wizardin' world have been usin' elves as slaves for centuries. It's amazin' no one's done anythin' about it before now."

"Girls, open your ears," Ron said, "They. Like. It. They _like_ being enslaved!"

Bryt glared at Ron as she pinned a SPEW badge to the front of her robes.

"Our short-term aims," Hermione spoke up, raising her voice, "Are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions."

"Long-term aims," Bryt picked up, "Involve gettin' rid of the no-wand laws and get an elf representative in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"They're shockingly underrepresented."

"And how do we do all this?" Harry asked.

"We start by recruiting members," Hermione said with a grin, "We thought two Sickles to join—that buys a badge—and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign."

"You're treasurer, Ron," Bryt said, "There's a tin upstairs, I'll get it for you later. And you're secretary, Harry."

"So you might want to write down everything we're saying now, as a record of our first meeting."

Bryt and Hermione both grinned, looking back and forth between Harry and Ron, who simply stared back in silence. Before anyone could say anything else, however, they were distracted by a soft tapping on the window nearby. All four looked up to see a familiar snowy owl perched on the windowsill.

"Hedwig!" Harry said happily, jumping to his feet and running for the window, yanking it open. Hedwig flew inside and over to their table.

"About time!" Harry shouted, rushing for the table.

"She's got an answer!" Ron exclaimed, pointing to a piece of parchment around Hedwig's leg.

Harry got the letter and sat back down, reading over the letter.

"What does it say?" Hermione and Bryt chorused.

"'_Harry—_

"'_I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore—they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is._

"'_I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron, Bryt, and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry._

"'_Sirius'_."

Bryt gripped her bracelet in her hands, staring at Harry in shock.

"He's flying north?" Hermione seemed just as worried as Bryt, "He's coming _back_?"

"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" Ron asked as Harry jumped to his feet, slapping himself against the head.

"You okay?" Bryt asked, staring at her friend.

"I shouldn't've told him!"

"What?"

"It's made him think he's got to come back!" Harry said, hitting the table hard, "Coming back, because he thinks I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me!" Harry turned to Hedwig, who was hooting at him. "And I haven't got anything for you. You'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food."

Hedwig gave Harry a nasty look before flying off out the window. Bryt watched until she couldn't see the owl anymore.

"Harry," Hermione said softly.

"I'm going to bed," Harry cut in, "See you in the morning."

Bryt stared after Harry until he disappeared up the stairway before turning back to her friends.

"Do you think he's right?" Bryt asked, "That he shouldn't have wrote to Sirius about his scar?"

"I don't know," Ron said, "What will happen if Sirius gets caught?"

"I don't want to think about that," Bryt said, gathering her things, "I think I'm gonna go to bed myself. 'Night."

Without waiting for a reply, Bryt turned and started up the stairway to the girls' dormitories. Parvati and Lavender were both already asleep, so Bryt changed quietly and slipped into her bed, pulling the curtains closed around her. Bryt gave a small sigh and laid back across her bed, staring above her, Ron's question going through her head still. What will happen if Sirius gets caught?

Harry will lose the one chance he has of getting away from the Dursleys. His only chance of having the one thing even remotely like a normal family.

_'Not that any of that could happen anyway while Sirius was a fugitive,'_ Bryt thought, gripping her blankets and glaring above her, _'Why didn't I just grab Wormtail when I had the chance?'_

There it was again. The same mistake that would likely haunt Bryt for the rest of her life. Nearly any mention of Sirius sent waves of guilt rushing through the girl.

_'I deserve it.'_

Bryt closed her eyes, rolling over onto her side and yanking the covers over her. She knew her mistake and knew she'd never get over it. She'd never be able to make it up to Sirius or Harry for what she did. All she wanted for now was to escape into a few hours of sleep.

Still, it wasn't until a few hours after Hermione had come up to bed that weariness finally overpowered Bryt's thoughts, pulling the girl into a restless sleep.


	18. Arriving Schools

Even after Bryt finally drifted off to sleep, she didn't stay asleep. Nightmares making her relive her mistake with Wormtail kept her tossing, turning, jerking awake, rolling over, and going back to sleep, just for the process to begin again soon after. Bryt checked her watch each time she woke up, realizing the longest period she was able to sleep was barely an hour.

Finally, Bryt just gave up staying asleep. She gave a frustrated sigh as she got dressed, looking out the window. It was light out, but still too early for most to be awake. Once ready, Bryt headed down into the common room where she noticed she wasn't the only one who woke up early.

"Bryt?" Harry said, blinking in surprise as the short blonde sat next to him, "What're you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," Bryt replied, "I had a really restless night." Noticing Harry's concerned look, Bryt pulled her bracelet off, playing with it between her hands, trying to come up with an excuse. "Because of class yesterday. Professor Moody has to be mental to do somethin' like that in front of us. I never want to see those curses again."

"I know what you mean," Harry replied, turning back to what he had been working on. Bryt glanced at the parchment and noticed he was writing a letter to Sirius.

"I'm not going to let him get caught because of me," Harry said and Bryt glanced up to see he had noticed her staring, "If he thinks I'm okay, that I just imagined my scar hurting, he'll stop thinking he has to come back."

Bryt opened her mouth to protest. Harry's scar _had_ hurt and he shouldn't lie about it. She stopped herself, though, when she thought over Harry's plan. If it worked, Sirius wouldn't think he had to return to Britain. He'd stay away and safe.

"Good idea," Bryt said, slipping her bracelet back on, running her finger along the jagged stones. The longer Sirius stayed away, the less chance that he would be sent back to Azkaban. Bryt already felt horrible enough that Sirius had to live on the run when he should be living in his own home and giving a real home to Harry. She didn't need more guilt on her conscious if Sirius was arrested again.

When Harry got up to head to the Owlery, Bryt decided to go with him. She had hoped that the walk through the castle would distract her and keep her thoughts away from what could happen to Sirius. Instead, Bryt's thoughts stayed focus on Sirius's letter the night before.

"What d'you think he meant?" Bryt asked after one particular part of the letter went over in her head several times.

"What?" Harry asked, staring at Bryt for a second.

"In Sirius's letter last night," Bryt said, "What do you think he meant? About Dumbledore 'readin' the signs'? He said Dumbledore had to be since he hired Professor Moody."

Harry stayed silent for a few moments, obviously thinking it over.

"Maybe it has to do with what happened at the World Cup?"

Bryt shuddered, the image of the Dark Mark hovering in the sky came back clearly and Bryt could still easily remember the feeling of terror as she saw the Roberts family in the air and as she ran blindly through the woods.

"Maybe," she said slowly, "I just hope that what happened is a one-time thing. I never want to go through somethin' like that again."

Harry agreed and they continued on in silence, held up only when they ran into Peeves in one corridor. The poltergeist gave a delighted yell and chased the two friends down three corridors, singing rude rhymes about the two being lovebirds. Bryt and Harry ignored Peeves the best they could until he finally seemed to be bored of them and disappeared down another corridor.

Bryt was glad once they finally reached the Owlery, which was always a bit cooler than the rest of the castle due to its lack of windows. Hundreds of owls were sleeping, the perches and floor covered in owl droppings and rodent remains. Bryt nudged to Harry and pointed when she noticed Hedwig resting by Joey. The two headed over and Bryt began petting her own owl as Harry tried to get Hedwig to pay attention to him, every attempt only met by the owl bristling her tail at him.

"Maybe she's tired," Bryt said, winking at Harry when he glanced at her, "I'm sure Joey wouldn't mind takin' the letter to Sirius instead."

Joey gave a soft hoot, as if agreeing. Harry nodded, catching on to what Bryt was doing.

"Yeah, you're right," he said, "Hedwig must be too tired to fly out again. I'll use Joey."

Hedwig didn't seem to like that, finally sticking out her leg for Harry to give her the letter. Bryt grinned. She knew that playing on Hedwig's pride would get the owl to finally comply.

"Just find Sirius, okay?" Harry said to Hedwig, carrying her towards a window, "Before the dementors do."

Bryt watched as Hedwig flew off and Harry stayed still at the window, watching her. Bryt could clearly see the worry on her friend's face and it brought back the all-too-familiar guilt that she had been living with for months. The guilt of her ruining Harry's chance of a real family and causing him the trouble he had now.

_'And this is why I'll never tell him what I did,'_ Bryt thought, turning her attention to Joey when Harry looked towards her, _'He'll never forgive me for takin' away his chance at a real home...'_

**xxxxx**

"That was a _lie_, Harry," Hermione said in her usual scolding way, sounding much like she did when Harry, Ron, or Bryt neglected their homework. She was giving Harry an equally stern look after he and Bryt had explained about Harry writing to Sirius.

"You _didn't_ imagine your scar hurting and you know it," Hermione continued, then turning to Bryt, "And _you_ should have stopped him. Why did you let him just lie to Sirius?"

"Because I agree with him," Bryt said, looking down at her plate and pushing at the eggs on it with her fork, an excuse to avoid looking Hermione in the eye, "I don't want Sirius going back to Azkaban. He doesn't deserve it."

_'And I don't think I could handle the guilt,'_ Bryt added silently. She glanced up out of the corner of her eye and she could tell from the way that Hermione was looking at her, that she knew exactly what was on Bryt's mind. Hermione decided to drop the subject, though, much to Bryt's relief.

Thankfully, the next several weeks kept Bryt busy enough to distract her from thoughts on Sirius. Bryt and Hermione spent almost all of their free time trying to recruit members for SPEW. They were met with little luck, however. Bryt's brothers had both agreed to join, though Bryt felt it might have been because they were her little brothers. They didn't know much about house elves outside of what Bryt had told them. Very few others had paid for badges, and even then, Bryt still felt they only did to get Bryt and Hermione to leave them alone. Bryt was annoyed at this, but still knew that every Sickle they could get would be worth it if she and Hermione eventually made a difference for the house elves.

The girls had very little time for SPEW, however. Their teachers were giving them much more homework than they had dealt with in their previous years. According to McGonagall, it was to prepare them for their OWL exams, even though they didn't take their OWLs until the end of the fifth year.

In between the work, Bryt was also looking out for her brothers. Mike had adjusted very quickly to life at Hogwarts, spending almost all of his free time with his new friend Natalie and very rarely came to Bryt—the few times he did was in attempts to hide behind her chair when he was trying to get away from the Creevey brothers.

Drew had taken much longer to adjust. Though he did seem to be making friends with his fellow Hufflepuffs Kevin Whitby and Owen Cauldwell, Drew was still reserved and often waiting outside the Great Hall for Bryt in the mornings. Though at first it was every day, it slowly began to become more sparse, and finally as the end of October approached, Drew had stopped showing up all together. Bryt was glad for this, as it meant that he was finally comfortable with his House and was finally settling in.

The biggest shock, however, came in Defense Against the Dark Arts one day when Moody informed them that he'd be teaching them to resist the Imperius Curse—by preforming the curse on each of them in turn.

Bryt was horrified. Moody was actually planning to curse all of them? In order to _teach_ them? Even when the curse was supposed to be illegal?

"But—but you said it's illegal, Professor," Hermione spoke up, her voice shaking slightly, "You said—to use it against another human was—"

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," Moody cut in, "If you'd rather learn the hard way—when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely—fine by be. Off you go."

Moody pointed to the door and Bryt was tempted to leave herself, gripping her bracelet so tightly in her hands that the stones were digging into her fingers. Still, no matter how much the idea of the curse terrified her, she knew it'd be stupid to walk out of the class. Hermione lowered her head, muttering something under her breath, but staying where she was, obviously thinking along the same lines as Bryt.

As the class went on, Bryt became even more anxious about her turn, continuing to grip her bracelet tightly. She watched as each of her classmates were forced to do strange things from imitating animals to singing. When Harry's turn was called, he at first looked as if he were going to do some jump, then paused for a bit, then suddenly did an odd move that caused him to crash into a desk and fall to the ground. Bryt winced, fighting hard to keep her gaze on Harry instead of glaring at Moody.

Apparently, Harry's crash was because he had tried to fight off the curse. After that, Moody made Harry endure the curse over and over until he could fight it off completely, though it left Harry limping from sore legs.

Finally, it came to Bryt's turn. She kept gripping her bracelet as tightly as she could, unable to keep herself from squeezing her eyes shut and tensing when Moody aimed his wand at her and said the curse.

Bryt relaxed instantly, starting to grin slightly and barely aware of her bracelet slipping out of her hands. All she cared about was the blissful feeling in her mind, not paying any attention to what she was doing as she threw out her arms and spun, dancing around the room as a voice in the back of her head urged her on.

When Bryt finally stopped, she felt oddly empty as the blissful feeling vanished and the voice went away. It was not a feeling she liked at all as she looked down to avoid the stares of her classmates. Bryt bent down, scooping up her bracelet from the floor, and hurried over to her friends, hugging her robes around her against an odd chill rushing through her body.

Bryt continued to ignore her friends' worried looks for the rest of the class, just keeping her robes hugged around her, even as they began to leave the room once class was finally over.

"The way he talks," Harry said quietly, still limping from his experience with the Imperius Curse, "You'd think we were all going to be attacked any second."

"Can we please not talk about this?" Bryt spoke up for the first time since class had began, "I don't want to think about that class, okay?"

Thankfully, her friends complied. Bryt was well aware of them staring at her with worried looks, but none of them spoke up. Again, Bryt was grateful for it. She just kept her head down, trying hard to force herself not to think about the horrible feeling still rushing through her. It wasn't just because of being forced to do something. It was about the blissful feeling the curse had given and how _willing_ she had been to do exactly as Moody had wanted her do. It was something Bryt never wanted to experience again, though she had the sickening feeling that Moody was going to continue teaching the students how to defend themselves against it.

Luckily, Bryt had a much better experience with her Care of Magical Creatures classes, though she seemed to be the only one who enjoyed it(besides Hagrid, of course). The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing ever-bigger, even though no one knew what they ate yet. One day in late October, Hagrid even suggested that the students come down to the hut on some evenings to observe the skrewts and make notes on their behavior. Bryt was delighted for a chance to study the skrewts more, but Malfoy seemed dead-set against it.

"I will not," Malfoy said, "I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks."

"Yeh'll do wha' yer told," Hagrid said sternly, in a rare moment of seeming as an imposing teacher than his usual lovable self, "Or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Moody's book...I hear yeh make a good ferret, Malfoy."

Bryt cracked up, as did the rest of the Gryffindors. Malfoy glared at Hagrid, obviously thinking of a rude response, but kept it to himself. Bryt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the class in good moods, glad to see Malfoy put in his place by Hagrid. Especially after Malfoy had tried hard the year before to get Hagrid fired.

When the quartet reached the Entrance Hall, they were met with a crowd of students grouped around the foot of the marble staircase. Ron, who was definitely the tallest among them, went to look over heads to see what the announcement was about.

"It's for the Triwizard Tournament," Ron said, "The other two schools are going to come October Thirtieth. Yes! Classes are ending half an hour early! It's for us to take our bags to our dormitories, then come back out to the front of the school to meet the foreign students."

"Only a week away!" Ernie Macmillan(a Hufflepuff that Bryt wasn't particularly fond of) said nearby as Ron returned to Bryt, Harry, and Hermione. Ernie obviously was speaking more to himself than to them, however. "I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I'll go tell him..."

"Cedric?" Ron asked as Ernie hurried off.

"Diggory," Harry said, "He must be entering the tournament."

"That idiot, Hogwarts Champion?" Ron asked with a snort as they forced their way through the crowd into the Great Hall.

"Hey, he can't be that bad," Bryt said, "Drew told me Diggory's one of the Hufflepuff Prefects and has helped him out a couple of times. He likes Diggory, and anyone willin' to help my brother feel more at home is okay with me."

Ron looked away quickly, most likely because since the school year began, Ron had been trying to convince Mike of any lie he could whenever the boy came around, much to Bryt's annoyance. It annoyed her even more that no matter how many times Bryt elbowed Ron, kicked him in the leg, or hit him over the head, it didn't seem to keep Ron from wanting to torment Mike and make the boy worry needlessly.

The news about the other students arriving seemed to be the main topic over the next week with theories flying about how Durmstrang and Beauxbatons differed from Hogwarts. The staff was even restless about the approaching date, constantly reminding the students to be on their best behavior.

Filch was worse than ever as he seemed determined to clean every inch of the castle before Friday came. It was odd for Bryt to go through the castle and not see dust lining pictures, or not hearing the suits of armors squeak or creak as they watched her pass, and Bryt found herself disliking the change. She much preferred the homey, dusty walls over the castle seeming so oddly clean.

Even the Great Hall had been redecorated as the thirtieth of October came. As Bryt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione came down for breakfast, Bryt looked around at the banners covering the walls along the tables, each representing one of the four Houses, with another behind the staff table that was black with the Hogwarts crest in the middle.

"This is gonna take a lot of gettin' used to," Bryt said as she and her friends headed down to where Fred and George at one end of the Gryffindor table.

"It's a bummer, all right," George was saying in a whisper, obviously trying to keep from being overheard, "But if he won't talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter after all. Or we'll stuff it into his hand. He can't avoid us forever."

"Who's avoiding you?" Ron asked as he, Bryt, Harry, and Hermione sat down.

"Wish you would," Fred said, obviously not appreciating Ron butting into their conversation.

"What's a bummer?" Ron asked, seeming not to get the hint as he looked at George.

"Having a nosy git like you for a brother," George replied.

"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?" Harry asked quickly, obviously trying to keep Ron from speaking up again.

"I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't telling," George said sourly, "She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon."

"Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" Ron asked, "You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We've done dangerous stuff before."

"You're idiots for wantin' to get into that tournament," Bryt said, stabbing her eggs with her fork, "Complete idiots."

Ron looked ready to argue, but hundreds of owls swooped into the room, signifying the arrival of mail. Joey landed in front of Bryt with a letter from Sofí. Bryt gave him a piece of bacon, which he took gratefully before flying off, seeming tired from his long flight.

Bryt turned as she noticed Hedwig was back, looking even more exhausted than Joey. Harry took the letter from her before giving her some of his bacon. Harry glanced to Fred and George, who had gone back to their own private conversation, before leaning towards Bryt, Ron, and Hermione to read Sirius's letter.

"_'Nice try, Harry,'_" Harry read in a whisper, "_'I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig, keep changing owls, and don't worry about me, just watch yourself. Don't forget what I said about your scar.'_"

"Why d'you have to keep changing owls?" Ron asked.

"Hedwig'll stand out," Bryt replied.

"Exactly," Hermione said with a nod, "Snowy owls aren't exactly native. People will notice if she keeps returning to the same place."

Bryt sighed, her appetite gone as she pushed around her eggs. She hated the idea of Sirius being back. It could be good for Harry, since Sirius would be much closer, thus much faster to replying to Harry's letter's, but it would also put him at a much higher risk of being caught.

_'He's managed this long without any trouble,'_ Bryt thought weakly, _'Maybe he'll stay out of sight...'_

Bryt's worry about Sirius didn't last long into the day. She couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement building around her in anticipation of the other schools arriving. Bryt was glad for the bell to ring during their Potions class and hurried to put away her things before McGonagall led the Gryffindors through the castle and onto the grounds in front of the entrance.

Once outside, they lined up with the rest of the school, the small first years up front. Bryt huddled her robes around her against the chilly air, looking towards Mike talking in excited whispers with Natalie, and further down the line, Drew was grinning and almost bouncing in anticipation, which his two friends were apparently finding very amusing.

"Nearly six," Ron said some time later as he checked his watch, "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"

"I doubt it," Hermione said simply.

"How then? Broomsticks?" Harry asked, looking towards the sky.

"Maybe Portkeys?" Bryt asked, her stomach tightening as she remembered her uncomfortable experience with the things, "Or Apparation? Witches and wizards get their license at sixteen in America, maybe it's the same wherever these schools are from?"

"You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?" Hermione said, annoyed.

Bryt couldn't help but grin over that as she stood on tip-toe to look around again. She squinted slightly, trying to find any sign of the schools arriving.

"Aha!" Dumbledore suddenly said from the back of the group, "Unless I'm very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

Bryt pushed herself up as far as she could get, using her friends as a brace as she stretched up to look around, once again mentally curing her short stature. Someone called out, pointing towards the forest, and Bryt squinted, noticing something in the distance, growing larger and larger as it came closer.

"It's a dragon!" Natalie suddenly shrieked, grabbing tightly onto Mike's arm.

"Don't be stupid...It's a flying horse!" Dennis called out.

Bryt was almost to the point of hopping on the spot to see better as she noticed what was coming. A large, light blue carriage that seemed even larger than Bryt's own home came into view, a dozen elephant-sized winged-horses pulling it. Studying how the giant horses seemed to resemble palominos with wings, Bryt was quite sure they were Abraxans.

The Abraxan-drawn carriage soon landed and the door opened as a boy in robes of pale blue jumped down, working to unfold a set of gold-colored steps. A second later, he jumped back and an unnaturally tall woman stepped out, gaining a few gasps through the crowd.

The only other person Bryt had ever seen so large was Hagrid. She was sure that there was very little difference in the two's height. The woman, despite her large stature, was still attractive with her dark hair and eyes and dressed in obviously expensive black satin robes.

Dumbledore clapping seemed to pull everyone from their daze and applause slowly rose through the crowd. Bryt didn't join in, still keeping herself pushed up as high as she could get and still gripping on Harry and Ron's arms to brace herself. Dumbledore walked forward to the large woman, taking her hand and kissing the back of it lightly.

"My dear Madam Maxime," he greeted, "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," Maxime said in a deep voice, heavy with a French accent, "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," Dumbledore answered.

"My pupils," Maxime said, stepping to the side and waving towards a dozen young witches and wizards behind her, all dressed in the same light blue, silk robes. They were all shivering noticeably, huddled together as closely as possible and some wrapping their scarves further around their heads for extra warmth.

"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment," Dumbledore said, "Would you like to wait here and greet them or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," Maxime replied, "But ze 'orses—"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," Dumbledore said, and Bryt knew that would be true. Hagrid enjoyed taking care of any creature. "The moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other—er—charges."

"Skrewts," Ron muttered next to Bryt.

"My steeds require—er—forceful 'andling," Maxime said, looking unsure of Dumbledore's offer, "Zey are very strong..."

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," Dumbledore said with a smile.

"Very well," Maxime finally said, "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

_'Great. Gettin' the horses drunk,'_ Bryt thought, looking towards the giant creatures.

"It will be attended to," Dumbledore said with a slight bow of respect.

"Come," Maxine motioned to the Beauxbatons students, leading them up to the castle.

"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?"

Bryt turned the best she could to Seamus, who had leaned over towards them.

"Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," Harry said, "That's if he hasn't been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?"

"Nothin' Hagrid won't be able to deal with," Bryt said, annoyed. She wasn't in the mood to listen to her friends complain about the skrewts. She wanted to enjoy the afternoon and was getting curious as to what the Durmstrang students would be like.

"Can you hear something?" Ron asked several minutes later.

Bryt squinted at the dark sky, straining to hear what Ron was talking about. It wasn't long before she noticed the sound, which was a low rumbling, reminding Bryt of a muted waterfall.

"The lake!" someone nearby called.

Bryt turned, squinting more and studying the surface of the lake. A whirlpool was slowly appearing in the center and seconds later, a ship started to emerge. It wasn't long before the entire ship was visible and an anchor was thrown overboard, followed by a plank stretching towards the lake's shore.

As the Durmstrang group approached, Bryt noticed they all seemed larger than they actually were due to heavy fur cloaks of a dark red color. The man leading them, however, was dressed in a much finer fur cloak of dark silver.

"Dumbledore!" the man came forward, shaking Dumbledore's hand on both of his own, "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied, grinning.

"Dear old Hogwarts," Karkaroff said as he grinned and Bryt winced slightly as she noticed his teeth were very poorly kept, leaving them jagged and yellow, which just seemed to accent the coldness his smile seemed to have, "How good it is to be here, how good...Viktor, come along, into the warmth...you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold..."

Karkaroff headed off with his students before Dumbledore could answer and Bryt noticed the boy Karkaroff had been referring to. She gasped as she recognized him, and Ron seemed to have, too, as he jerked around to watch the students, his mouth agape.

Walking along the headmaster of Durmstrang was none other than Viktor Krum.

**xxxxx**

**A/N:** Just a note, I'll probably start missing more grammar errors. Feel free to point out if I do. My laptop has been fried(I had gotten it used, and the thing was over six years old, so this was not completely unexpected for me). I am now back to using my old computer that has the random freezing problem and a weird grudge against Microsoft Word, so I'm now, once again, using Open Office, which has a spell check, but no grammar check. I'll try to catch what I can, but no one's perfect.


	19. Tournament Begins

Bryt sighed as she tried to ignore Ron next to her. He was trying to stare over people's heads, desperate for a better look at Krum, much like most of the students around them. Sure, Bryt had been stunned at Krum's arrival, but she found it annoying how everyone was obsessing on it. She knew from years with Harry that someone famous probably wouldn't like the constant attention and it would be best to leave them alone.

Of course, Bryt also knew from her second year that there were some celebrities who were egocentric thrived on attention—Bryt was still ashamed of the fact that she had once been one of the hundreds who fawned over the fraud Gilderoy Lockhart—and she felt it was best to ignore those type as well, just to deprive them of the attention they obsessively wanted.

Bryt came into the Great Hall, ignoring students' desperate needs for quills to get Krum's autograph, and sat with her friends. Bryt glanced towards the door where the Durmstrang students were still grouped together, looking around as if trying to decide where to sit. The Beauxbatons students had taken seats at the end of the Ravenclaw table, some still gripping their scarves and robes tighter around them.

"It's not that cold," Hermione said, staring over at the students as well, "Why didn't they bring cloaks?"

"Maybe they're just not used to it," Bryt said, looking at Hermione, "I mean, it could be a lot warmer where Beauxbatons is. It took me a long time to get used to how different the weather is here than Charleston, and I still get cold way too easily in the winter."

Ron gave a disappointing groan and Bryt looked at him, then followed his gaze to the group of Durmstrang students who had sat at the Slytherin table. Bryt rolled her eyes over this, not at all surprised considering what Malfoy had said about how Durmstrang took strongly to teaching their students Dark Arts instead of defending themselves against it.

"Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him Malfoy," Ron said lowly, glaring towards where Malfoy was leaned forward to talk to Krum, "I bet Krum can see right through him, though...Bet he gets people fawning over him all the time...Where d'you reckon they're going to sleep? We could offer him a space in our dormitory, Harry...I wouldn't mind giving him my bed, I could kip on a camp bed."

Bryt and Hermione both snorted. Ron was far too obsessed with Krum.

"They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot," Harry said.

Bryt turned from the Durmstrang students, who were looking very impressed with Hogwarts, staring at awe at the ceiling and golden plates, to the Beauxbatons students, who seemed completely opposite—staying huddled in their robes and scarfs, staring around them with disapproving, almost disgusted, expressions.

The Beauxbatons students suddenly jumped to their feet and Bryt looked over, noticing the Hogwarts staff had come into the room, with Karkaroff and Maxime at the end of the line. Some Hogwarts students started laughing at the Beauxbatons students' actions, but it seemed not to faze the students as they remained standing until their headmistress had sat down.

Bryt glanced along the staff table and noticed there were two empty seats. She blinked, looking along the table and noticed everyone was there. So who would the extra two chairs be for?

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and—most particularly—guests," Dumbledore said, his usual friendly grin on his face, "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls with a scarf wrapped around her head for warmth gave a harsh laugh. Bryt glared over at her, gripping her hands tightly into fits.

"No one's forcing you to stay!" Hermione hissed, obviously just as offended over the girl's actions as Bryt was.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore continued, acting as if he hadn't noticed the girl's laugh, "I now invite you to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

As Dumbledore sat town, the plates along the tables immediately filled with food. Bryt noticed several new dishes that she was quite sure were from the homelands of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons.

"What's that?" Ron asked, a disgusted look in his face as he pointed to what looked like some type of shellfish stew.

"Bouillabaisse," Hermione said.

"What?"

"It's French. I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice."

"I think I might try some," Bryt said, scooping out some of the stew onto her plate(after all, she had always liked sea food), which Ron responded to by giving Bryt the same disgusted look he had given the stew earlier.

It seemed the main topic all over the Great Hall was the Triwizard Tournament. Conversations buzzed all around about what the tasks would be like and who would be the impartial judge to pick the champions. Well into the feast, a voice suddenly came behind Bryt.

"Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"

Bryt looked up to see the Beauxbatons student who had laughed earlier was standing behind her. She had finally removed her head warmer, allowing her silvery-blonde hair to fall almost completely down her back, and was staring at them with bright blue eyes.

"Yeah, here," Bryt said, scooping out a little more onto her plate before pushing the bowl towards the student, resisting the urge to just dump it on her after her disrespectful laugh earlier. Though she couldn't help but think about how she _could _have easily knocked it over and make it seem like an accident.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?" the girl asked, looking at where Bryt had dished out more onto her plate.

"Yeah," Ron spoke up and Bryt looked over to where he was staring at the tall foreigner as if he had never seen a girl before in his life, "It was excellent."

Bryt snorted, looking back to the student.

"I got what I want," she said, "Go ahead and take it."

The girl nodded, carefully taking the bowl and started back to the Ravenclaw table. Bryt turned back to Ron, who was still staring after her with his mouth hanging open. Bryt glared at her friend, kicking him hard under the table, which seemed to pull him to his senses.

"She's a _veela_!" Ron whispered, which caught Bryt off guard as she had expected a usual glare from her kicking him.

"I don't think so," Bryt said, still glaring slightly at Ron, despite being slightly thrown-off by his daze, "Just 'cause someone's tall, blonde, and pretty doesn't mean they're some magical creature."

"I'm telling you," Ron insisted, leaning over to try and get a better look at the Beauxbatons girl, "That's not a normal girl! They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!"

Bryt kicked Ron under the table again. He yelped, and this time he did glare at Bryt, who continued to glare back at him.

"Next time you wanna make a comment like that," Bryt snapped, "It'd probably be best to make sure there ain't any Hogwarts girls around."

"Well, you don't count," Ron shot back, his face going oddly red, "You're not technically from here, after all."

"Yeah, I'm from America," Bryt said hotly, "But I've lived here for over three years. And _Hermione's_ from here."

Ron opened his mouth, obviously about to make some retort, but Hermione cut him off.

"If you two are done," she said sharply, "You'll be able to see who's just arrived."

Bryt and Ron both looked up to where Hermione was pointing at the empty seats on the staff table, though they weren't empty any longer. Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch had both arrived, each taking a chair on either side of the three schools' heads.

"What are _they_ doing here?" Harry asked, seeming shocked.

"They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?" Hermione asked, "I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start."

Bryt nodded, thinking that had to be the reason, and turned back to her food. Soon, the main course was replaced with desserts, which also had several foreign dishes. Bryt huffed in annoyance when Ron studied one dessert before carefully pushing it into view of the Beauxbatons students. Luckily, the tall blonde seemed to have eaten enough and didn't return for any other dishes.

Once the desserts disappeared, everyone grew quiet, looking up towards Dumbledore as he stood up. Bryt straightened up, eager to hear what would come next.

"The moment has come," Dumbledore said with a smile, "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket, just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation," Dumbledore paused as a weak applause echoed through the room, "And Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

Bryt joined in with the clapping this time, which was much louder and mixed with some cheers. Bryt was sure that Bagman's welcome was much warmer due to his fame as a former Beater.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madam Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

Bryt straightened more, as did nearly other student in the room. Dumbledore seemed to notice this as his grin grew.

"The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch hurried forward, carrying a large chest decorated with dozens of sparkling jewels. Excited whispers echoed through the entire room as students all tried to get a better look at the chest.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," Dumbledore continued, "And they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways...Their magical prowess—their daring—their powers of deduction—and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament. One from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore took out his wand, tapping on the jeweled chest, which caused the lid to open slowly. Dumbledore took out a large goblet that was very dull compared to the chest, seeming to be poorly made of rough wood. The only think remarkable about it was the blue flames filling it.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," Dumbledore said as he placed the cup on top of the now-closed chest, "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it had been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name in the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

Bryt stood up, starting for the door with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Fred and George, who were a few feet in front of them, seemed quite sure that they'd be able to beat Dumbledore's Age Line with an Aging Potion. Bryt doubted that, though. She was very sure that Dumbledore would have thought of someone trying that and would prepare against it.

Ron, meanwhile, was still trying to catch a glance at Krum and got that chance as they had reached the door at the same time as the Durmstrang students. The students seemed stunned when they noticed Harry, elbowing each other in the side and whispering to each other in a language Bryt didn't understand. She gave an annoyed huff, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Yes, that's Harry Potter."

Bryt jumped slightly, turning to see Mad-Eye Moody had come up behind them. Bryt noticed that Karkaroff stared at the man in shock, his face going very white.

"Unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move," Moody continued, "You're blocking the doorway."

Bryt glanced around and noticed a large crowd was beginning to gather around them, several students trying to see over each other to what was blocking their way.

Karkaroff turned with that, ushering his students out of the room quickly. Bryt headed on through the door afterward, giving another annoyed sigh as Ron kept looking towards the front doors, as it seemed the Durmstrang students were going to stay in their ship.

_'I really hope I wasn't this bad two years ago,'_ Bryt thought, distastefully remembering her once-held obsession with Gilderoy Lockhart. She had a sinking suspicion she had been, though, which gave her the feeling that she would be having to deal with Ron's fawning for a very long time.


	20. Four Champions

Bryt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione woke up early the next morning, and they weren't alone. As they came down to the entrance hall, several students were already there, eating toast as they all studied the Goblet of Fire—which had been placed on a stool centered in a golden twenty-foot-radius circle.

"Anyone put their name in yet?" Ron asked a nearby student.

"All the Durmstrang lot," the girl replied, "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

"Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," Harry said, "I would've if it had been me...Wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"

"_That_ would be embarrassin'," Bryt said.

A laugh came from behind them and they looked up the stairs to see Fred, George, and their friend Lee Jordan were racing down towards them, all three looking very pleased about something.

"Done it," Fred said triumphantly as he reached Bryt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, "Just taken it."

"What?" Ron asked.

"The Aging Potion, dung brains."

"One drop each," George said, seeming beside himself with excitement, "We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," Lee said.

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," Hermione said cautiously, "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this."

"Ready?" Fred turned to George and Lee, ignoring Hermione, "C'mon, then—I'll go first."

Bryt already knew this was going to fail and pulled her camera from her bag, fully expecting that she'd be able to get some type of amusement. She watched as Fred took out a slip of parchment and walked to the edge of the Age Line, hesitating for a second before he took a breath and stepped over the line.

George seemed to think this was good enough because he jumped over the line after his twin. A second later, however, an odd sizzling noise echoed through the entrance hall and the twins were thrown backwards out of the golden circle. As they landed hard on the floor, there was a loud pop and both boys suddenly sprouted long, white beards.

Bryt cracked up as she snapped a picture when the twins sat up. Fred and George seemed to take their failure well as they got to their feet, looked at each other, and joined in the laughter.

"I did warn you."

The laughter died instantly as everyone looked up to see Dumbledore had come in from the Great Hall, looking very amused as he looked towards Fred and George.

"I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything as fine as yours."

Fred and George hurried off, Lee right behind them, still laughing. Bryt couldn't help but giggle herself as she headed into the Great Hall, pulling her picture closer to her when Ron tried to take it from her.

As they started across the room, Bryt glanced towards the Hufflepuff table and saw Drew and his two friends staring above him in awe. Looking towards the Gryffindor table, Bryt could see Mike and Natalie looking around with the same awed expressions. Bryt grinned, easily remembering how she had reacted the first time she saw Hogwarts' Halloween decorations of live bats and floating Jack-O-Lanterns.

Bryt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down next to Dean and Seamus, who had been talking about who would be the best Hogwarts champion.

"There's a rumor going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in," Dean said, "That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth."

"I'll protest if we end up with a Slytherin champion," Bryt said, glaring over towards the Slytherin table for a second.

"And the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory," Seamus said, "But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks."

"Diggory's been helpin' my brother, he can't be that bad," Bryt said in defense.

"Listen!" Hermione cut in before anyone could reply.

Cheering was coming from the entrance hall. Bryt looked up as Angelina Johnson came into the Hall, looking both pleased and embarrassed. She made her way to the Gryffindor table, sitting down near their group.

"Well, I've done it! Just put my name in!"

"You're kidding!" Ron and Bryt chorused.

"Are you seventeen, then?" Harry asked.

"'Course she is, can't see a beard, can you?" Ron said. Bryt had to admit, Harry definitely didn't think before he asked that question.

"I had my birthday last week," Angelina said, still grinning.

"Well, I'm glad someone from Gryffindor's entering," Hermione said, "I really hope you get it, Angelina!"

"Thanks, Hermione."

"Yeah, better than Pretty-Boy Diggory," Seamus said, gaining glares from the Hufflepuffs at the next table over.

After breakfast, Bryt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione decided it'd be a good time to visit Hagrid, as they hadn't had much of a chance since the school year began. Bryt and Hermione, realizing that they haven't gotten a chance to talk to Hagrid about SPEW, made the boys wait as Hermione went back upstairs to get the box of badges.

"Hey, Ron, it's your friend."

Bryt turned to see what Harry was talking about and groaned as she noticed the Beauxbatons students had come in, their headmistress coming along behind them. The students got into a line, each stepping over the Age Line and placing their slips of parchment into the fire, which flared up and turned red before returning to normal.

"What d'you reckon'll happen to the ones who aren't chosen?" Ron asked, staring at the blonde girl he insisted had to be veela. Bryt huffed in annoyance, crossing her arms over her chest.

"They'll probably stay," Bryt said, glaring at the tall blonde that Ron was so obsessed with, "I mean, Madame Maxime is stayin', so the rest of the students most likely will, too."

"Where are they sleeping, then?" Ron asked as the Beauxbatons students started back outside again. He started to follow them and Bryt rolled her eyes, noticing Hermione had come back with the box of SPEW badges. Ron noticed her, too, as he told Hermione to hurry up and rushed out the door, obviously wanting to catch another glance at the tall blonde from Beauxbatons.

_'He'll be very lucky if I don't end up punchin' him,'_ Bryt thought, glaring at Ron as they headed off for Hagrid's hut.

What was so great about the Beauxbatons girl, anyway? Sure, she was extremely pretty. Tall, slender, blonde, blue-eyed, all the characteristics associated with most young boys' fantasies about a 'perfect girl'...Everything Bryt wasn't.

_'Looks ain't everythin','_ Bryt thought bitterly, shoving her hands in her pockets, then tensed as she suddenly realized where her thoughts had been going, _'And why should I care, anyway? It's Ron we're talkin' about. Why should I care who he fantasizes about?'_

The girl was stuck up, that's why Bryt cared. Or at least, that's what she told herself. The tall blonde was definitely not the type of girl Ron needed to be with. He needed someone down-to-earth and likable, not someone rude and uncaring.

Bryt huffed, trying to get rid of her current train of thought. Luckily, she had a good distraction as they got closer to Hagrid's hut. Bryt glanced over and could see the Beauxbatons students were obviously staying in their house-sized carriage—much like the Durmstrang students were staying on their ship.

Bryt turned away as they reached Hagrid's hut. Harry knocked on the door, answered by Fang's barking inside.

"'Bout time!" Hagrid said as he opened the door and saw them, "Thought you lot'd forgotten where I live!"

Bryt's mouth fell open as she stared at Hagrid. He was wearing his horrible hairy suit and yellow-and-orange tie. Bryt probably wouldn't have been too surprised by that, but it was Hagrid's hair that had shocked her speechless. It was slicked down by some type of grease, making it look odd and bunched, as if Hagrid had tried to tie his hair back and failed, then his hair stayed like that, despite having no band to hold it.

"Erm..." it was Hermione who managed to speak up first, "Where are the skrewts?"

"Out by the pumpkin patch," Hagrid said, "They're gettin' massive, mus' be nearly three foot long now. On'y trouble is, they've started killin' each other."

"How many are left?" Bryt asked, worried, trying to push away her shock at Hagrid's appearance.

"Abou' twenty," Hagrid said, "I've got 'em in separate boxes now."

"That's good," Bryt said with a grin.

Hagrid invited them inside and they sat in Hagrid's hugely over-sized chairs at his table while Hagrid made them all tea. It wasn't long before the conversation went to the main discussion at all of Hogwarts: The Triwizard Tournament.

"You wait," Hagrid said with a knowing grin, "You jus' wait. Yer going ter see some stuff yeh've never seen before. Firs' task...ah, but I'm not suppposed ter say."

Bryt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione tried to get more information out of Hagrid, but nothing worked. He seemed determined not to 'spoil the surprise' for them. Still, they tried all through lunch, while also trying to speculate who would be champion from each school.

As it began to rain, Bryt and Hermione suddenly remembered the SPEW badges and tried to urge Hagrid into joining their cause. Bryt was surprised when he flat-out refused.

"It'd be doin' 'em an unkindness," Hagrid said as he started mending a pair of his socks, "It's in their nature ter look after humans, that's what they like, see? Yeh'd be makin' 'em unhappy ter take away their work, an' insultin' 'em if yeh tried ter pay 'em."

"The elves in America are perfectly happy bein' paid!" Bryt pointed out, "They have been for centuries. They're not mistreated there. They're free to live their lives the way they want, working for who they want!"

"And Harry set Dobby free, and he's over the moon about it!" Hermione added, "_And_ we've heard he's asking for wages now!"

"I'm not sayin' there isn't the odd elf who'd take freedom, but yeh'll never persuade most of 'em ter do it—no, nothin' doin', girls."

Bryt and Hermione both huffed, storing away their box of badges. Bryt had always been very close with Hagrid due to their shared love of magical creatures, and she had hoped he would have been supportive of SPEW.

As it started to grow dark outside, Bryt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione decided to head back to the castle for the Halloween feast and the announcement of the school champions.

"I'll come with yeh," Hagrid said, getting up, "Jus' give me a sec."

Hagrid headed across his home towards his chest-of-drawers and started going through it. Bryt started for the door to wait when she suddenly caught scent of something that made her gag in disgust.

"What's that?" Ron asked as he gagged as well.

"Is that aftershave?" Hermione asked, covering her mouth and nose with her hand as she stared at a bottle in Hagrid's hand.

"Er—eau de cologne," Hagrid said sheepishly, "Maybe it's a bit much. I'll go take it off, hang on..."

Hagrid headed outside, where it had recently stopped raining, and began washing himself with water from a barrel by the hut.

"Hagrid wearin' cologne?" Bryt asked, looking over at her friends.

"And what's with the hair and suit?" Harry asked.

"Look!" Ron said, pointing out the window.

Bryt moved over, starting to giggle as she realized what was with Hagrid's odd behavior. The Beauxbatons group had come out of their carriage and Hagrid had hurried over, talking to Maxime. After a moment, Hagrid started up towards the castle with her.

"Oh, man, Hagrid fancies Madam Maxime!" Bryt said, giggling more.

"If they end up having children, they'll be setting a world record," Ron said, "Bet any baby of theirs would weigh about a ton."

"No kiddin'," Bryt said as they left Hagrid's hut and started across the wet lawn towards the castle.

Once in the Great Hall, Bryt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione found seats near Fred and George, who were now beardless.

"Hope it's Angelina," Fred said, seeming unfazed by his and George's failed attempt to put their names in the goblet.

"So do I!" Hermione said, "Well, we'll soon know!"

The feast seemed unnaturally long, probably because Bryt was anxious to know who the champions would be and wasn't that interested in eating. Bryt was very relieved then the plates cleared of desserts and Dumbledore stood up. Every person in the Great Hall fell silent instantly, staring up at Dumbledore in anticipation.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," Dumbledore said, "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber—" Dumbledore paused to motion to the door behind the staff table, "Where they will be receiving their first instructions."

Dumbledore waved his wand, dimming every light except the candles flickering in the Jack-O-Lanterns. The flames in the Goblet of Fire sent everything into a blueish glow and everyone was staring at it intently.

After several long minutes, the flames in the goblet went red and sparks flew. A single piece of parchment shot into the air and everyone gasped.

Dumbledore reached out, catching the piece of parchment and reading over it before looking up at the crowd.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he said, "Will be Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" Ron called over the cheering as Krum rose to his feet and walked up to the staff table, then through the side door.

The clapping soon died down and everyone turned their attention back to the goblet. It wasn't long before the flames turned red again and a second parchment flew from the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," Dumbledore called out, "Is Fleur Delacour!"

"It's her, Ron!" Harry called. Bryt looked over, her annoyance flaring again as she noticed the tall blonde Ron obsessed on rose to her feet, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and went straight for the door to the side room.

"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said and Bryt followed her gaze to the remaining Beauxbatons students. She couldn't hold back her giggling as she noticed a couple of the girls who hadn't been selected had broken down in tears.

Soon, the clapping died down again and every gaze, once again, turned to the goblet. Bryt was very tense, holding her breath. The Hogwarts champion was next...

The flames went red and a piece of parchment flew into the air, drifting down slowly. Bryt watched it intently, as if staring at it would allow her to read the name on it from across the room. Dumbledore caught the parchment, reading over it before looking up at the crowd again.

"The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!"

The uproar from the Hufflepuff table behind Bryt was so loud that she had to cover her ears. Bryt looked over her shoulder, noticing Diggory grinning broadly as he started up towards the staff table, then through the door where the other two champions waited.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore said as the cheering finally died down, "Well, we have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real—"

Dumbledore cut himself off, staring at the Goblet of Fire. Bryt could easily see why their headmaster was distracted. The goblet's flames had gone red for a fourth time, spitting out another piece of parchment.

Bryt stared in confusion as Dumbledore snatched the parchment from the air, holding it out and staring at it for several minutes before he finally spoke up.

"_Harry Potter_."

Bryt spun towards Harry, staring at him in shock. At first, she wondered how he had managed to get his name in the goblet—and why he hadn't told them about it—but then she noticed he looked just as shocked as everyone else.

"I didn't put my name in," he said in a daze, "You know I didn't."

_'Then who did?'_ Bryt thought, unable to say anything and continued to stare back at Harry.

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called again, "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

"Go on," Hermione whispered.

Harry slowly got to his feet, still seeming in a daze. Bryt stared at him as her friend walked slowly up towards the staff table as a low buzzing of angry whispers rose around them.

"Well...through the door, Harry," Dumbledore said simply, staring at Harry.

Harry moved slowly again, heading for the door and pausing before he finally went through it. The second he was gone, Dumbledore insisted everyone head to bed before turning back to the staff. Bryt could see Karkaroff and Maxime both hurried forward, whispering angrily with Dumbledore.

"Why didn't he tell us?" Ron asked angrily as they started up towards the Gryffindor common room.

"Ron, you saw Harry's face," Hermione said, "You heard him. He didn't put his name in."

Ron gave a disbelieving snort.

"Of course he said that. He wouldn't want us angry at him."

"Harry's never lied to us before," Bryt said.

"What about how he didn't tell us about his scar hurting during the summer?" Ron pointed out, "And he lied to Sirius about it in that letter, what's stopping him from lying to _us_ about this?"

"First off, he just never said anythin' about the scar," Bryt shot back, "Besides, he told us about his scar after what happened at the World Cup. And secondly, he lied to Sirius to keep him from being caught again. He doesn't have a reason to lie to us about this."

"Yes he does. He doesn't want us mad at him for going behind our backs," Ron said lowly, then remained silent for a moment before speaking up again, "It always happens to him, doesn't it?"

Bryt and Hermione glanced at each other as the three fell silent. Once in the common room, all three decided that the rest of the Gryffindors wouldn't let Harry rest when he got there, so they went on to bed, planning to talk with Harry in the morning.

"Do you think Ron actually believes Harry put his name in the goblet and lied to us about it?" Bryt asked once she and Hermione were in their room. Bryt sat on her bed, pulling over a piece of parchment to write a letter to Sofí.

"Not really," Hermione said with a sigh as she sat on her bed, "I think he's just jealous."

"Jealous?" Bryt looked up at Hermione, confused, "What's to be jealous of? We all saw Harry's face. He was practically terrified that his name came out of that goblet."

"I know, Bryt," Hermione said, "But try to look at it from Ron's perspective. He has five older brothers he's always being compared to, and then when he starts at Hogwarts, he becomes friends with Harry. Once again, he's constantly brushed aside as Harry's always the one people notice."

Bryt fell silent, looking down at her letter as she thought about what Hermione had said. She often was annoyed by all the attention Harry got, but her annoyance came from knowing Harry didn't want the attention, not from jealousy. Of course, Bryt didn't have any older siblings she was always being compared to and she stood out on her own with her potions skills and knowledge of magical creatures. Then Hermione was top of their class, again someone who stood out in the school.

"I bet we don't make it any better on him," Bryt said slowly.

"Probably not," Hermione whispered.

Bryt sighed. She had never really thought about Ron's situation in their little group, but now that she had, she could see how Ron had seemed so irritated at Harry's name coming out of the goblet. Once again, 'famous Harry Potter' was being thrown unwillingly in the spotlight and Ron was being brushed aside. It couldn't have been an easy for Ron.

_'And it seems he finally reached his limit,' _Bryt thought with a sigh, going back to her letter. All she could do was hope that Ron would be more willing to accept Harry's situation after a good night's sleep.


	21. Losing a Friend

Despite Bryt's hopes, by the next morning, Ron seemed just as angry over what happened as he had the night before. He had refused to wait for Harry before heading down to breakfast and it wasn't long before Bryt finally had enough of Ron's grumbling about what had happened the night before.

"Ron, just stop it," she snapped, "Harry _did not_ put his name in that goblet, and he has no control over what happened. Stop blamin' him for somethin' he can't control!"

"Of _course_ you're defending _him_!" Ron snapped back as he stabbed his fork into his sausage, "You're always taking everyone else's side! Any excuse to go against me!"

Bryt gripped her hands in anger, glaring at Ron. What had gotten into him? How did trying to get him to see Harry never wanted to be a champion automatically mean Bryt was always against Ron?

"Damn it, that's not true!" Bryt's voice rose, attracting stares of people nearby, but she ignored them, "I've been on your side in arguments countless times!"

"Yeah, whenever Harry was agreeing with me as well! You're always on his side!"

"I am not!"

"Both of you stop it!"

Bryt and Ron both turned to Hermione, glaring, but only because they had been glaring at each other a second earlier. Hermione straightened herself up, giving them a stern look.

"Listen, Harry's going to come down any minute—"

"I'm not going to talk to him," Ron said harshly. Bryt glared at him.

"—And I don't think he would want to deal with everyone staring at him today," Hermione continued, glaring at Ron herself now.

"Of course not," Ron said sarcastically, "Because he _never_ wants all the glory and attention."

Bryt glared at Ron, fighting the urge to hit him. Instead, she shoved herself to her feet and grabbed a napkin, starting to get a few pieces of toast.

"I'll cut him off before he gets here," she said, then turning her glare back to Ron, "Because I _so obviously_ prefer _him_ over _you_."

Without waiting on either Ron or Hermione to reply, Bryt spun around and stomped off.

_'Why did I ever care about his obsession with that Delacour girl?'_ Bryt thought, gripping her hands so tightly she crushed the toast slightly, _'Bet they'd actually be perfect for each other. Little prat.'_

Bryt had just made it into the the staircase at the entrance hall, still mentally cursing Ron, when she heard someone calling her name.

"_What?_" Bryt snapped, spinning around. Her anger vanished instantly, though, when she noticed it was Drew standing near the dungeon entrance that Bryt knew led towards the Hufflepuff common room. His two friends were standing behind Drew, staring at Bryt with almost frightened expressions.

"Are you okay?" Drew asked, staring at Bryt with a worried expression.

"I'm fine, Drew," Bryt said, "You need somethin'?"

Drew tensed, nodding before he glanced back at Owen and Kevin. Both boys gave a short nod before hurrying across the entrance hall, careful to keep a good distance from Bryt, and disappeared into the Great Hall. Bryt gave a sigh. Just what she needed. Drew's friends were terrified of her.

_'Ron's never gonna let me live this down,'_ Bryt thought, then felt a sickening uneasiness as she suddenly remembered the argument the two had just gotten into.

Bryt tried to push the feeling away as she reminded herself that her brother was wanting to talk to her. She turned to Drew, who had sat at the base of the marble staircase, playing with his glasses in his hands.

"Drew, are you okay?" Bryt asked, moving over and sitting next to her brother, laying the napkin-wrapped toast in her lap.

"I don't know what to do," Drew said quietly.

"About what?" Bryt asked, cocking her head and leaning forward slightly to look Drew in the face considering he was staring down at his glasses in his hands.

He seemed to notice, however, because he looked up, squinting due to his blurred vision without his glasses. Bryt couldn't help but notice how odd he looked without the thick, black frames on his face.

"The school champion," Drew said, "I'm a Hufflepuff. My entire house is expecting me to support Cedric Diggory. They say Hufflepuff rarely gets any attention and that your friend Harry's trying to steal it from them. But, still, Harry's your friend. You and Mike are in Gryffindor." Drew sighed, squinting back down at his glasses in his hands. "I feel like I'll betray you if I support Cedric, but I'll be betraying Hufflepuff if I support Harry..."

Bryt sighed, closing her eyes for a second before she looked back at her brother.

"Drew..." she started, "I'm not gonna be mad if you support Diggory." Drew looked up at Bryt with a disbelieving expression. "I'm not lyin'. You support Diggory if you want. You're a Hufflepuff. You should be proud one of your own is champion. But if you don't want to support him, that's fine. You support who you want."

"Can't I support both?" Drew asked, pushing his glasses back on his face.

Bryt couldn't help but grin. She could tell Drew was trying to please both sides to keep everyone happy. Bryt was able to see more and more why Drew was Sorted into Hufflepuff.

"If you want to, sure," she said, "But _only_ if you want to. I'm not gonna get mad over who you support."

Drew nodded, standing up.

"Thanks, Bryt," he said with a grin before heading off into the Great Hall to catch up with his friends.

"You're pretty good at that."

Bryt looked up over her shoulder and noticed Harry a few steps up, grinning. Bryt grabbed the toast as she stood up.

"Saw that, huh?" she asked as Harry came down next to her.

"Yeah, you're good at giving advice."

Bryt shrugged.

"Not really. I just told Drew the truth."

"You're still good at it," Harry said, then smirking, "And at terrifying poor first years."

Bryt gave an awkward grin, shrugging. Obviously, Harry had seen the whole thing, but had been courteous enough to not interrupt.

Hoping to keep Harry from asking what had Bryt so angry when she accidentally yelled at Drew and his friends, she held out some of the toast she had been carrying.

"Figured you wouldn't want to deal with everyone today," she said, "Sorry it's a bit crushed."

Harry nodded and seemed to take Bryt's unspoken hint because he didn't ask any questions. Turning away from the Great Hall, the two headed outside, starting across the lawn as they ate their toast.

"So, what happened last night?" Bryt asked, "After you went into that room, I mean. I know you didn't put your name in the goblet, but does Professor Dumbledore know how it happened?"

Harry gave a sigh, looking at the toast in his hand.

"He didn't know. But Professor Moody..." Harry paused, as if trying to decide whether or not to continue. "He thinks someone cast some spell and fooled the goblet into thinking there were supposed to be four schools. And that they entered my name under the fourth school to make sure I would be chosen. It worked. And I have to compete because of some magical binding. I have no choice."

"Why?" Bryt asked, staring at Harry, "Why would someone do that?"

Harry paused, looking away. Bryt knew instantly what the answer was.

"Someone wants to _kill_ you?" she whispered, fear washing over her and tightening her stomach in a knot.

"Professor Moody thinks so."

The two fell silent, walking along the edge of the lake as they ate their toast. Bryt's mind was racing. Someone managed to get Harry's name into the goblet to get him killed? Who would hate him that much?

The answer came to Bryt easily. Voldemort. The man who had killed Harry's parents thirteen years ago, and tried to kill Harry as well. On multiple occasions.

_'But how could he have gotten Harry's name in the goblet?'_ Bryt thought, staring out over the lake, _'He can't exactly waltz into the school, after all.'_

"Have you seen Ron?" Harry suddenly asked.

Bryt tensed, her argument with Ron rushing back easily and she glared out at the water.

"Yeah, durin' breakfast," she said, trying hard to keep her anger out of her voice.

"Does he still think I entered myself?" Harry asked, though Bryt could see from the corner of her eye that Harry was giving her a curious look. Apparently, she hadn't been able to hide her anger, but Harry seemed to think it was better not to ask. Probably remembering Bryt trying to avoid saying why she was angry earlier in the entrance hall.

"I really don't know," Bryt said with a sigh, "I don't _think_ he does, at least..."

"But?" Harry asked, sensing Bryt's unspoken word. Bryt sighed.

"But," she said, "It's Ron. He's stubborn, and I think he's finally had enough of you gettin' all the attention."

"What?"

"Hermione explained it better," Bryt said to herself, closing her eyes a second before looking back at Harry, "Hermione pointed out last night that Ron's always bein' brushed aside when people notice us. Hermione's top of our class, I do pretty well in potions and know a good bit about magical creatures, and then you're 'The Boy Who Lived'. Ron doesn't have anythin' that sets him apart. Last night was probably just the final straw."

"Great," Harry said sarcastically, glaring out at the lake, "Really great. Tell him for me I'll swap any time he wants—"

"I ain't tellin' him anythin'," Bryt snapped, "Ron seems to think I'm always 'takin' your side' and probably isn't speakin' to _me_, either."

Harry blinked, staring at Bryt in surprise. Bryt turned away, staring out over the water. She sighed, her argument with Ron finally sinking in fully. She had been in fights with Ron before(especially during their last year when Bryt had started dating Terry and Ron seemed to have some vendetta against him) and it had left the two on no-speaking terms, but it still didn't change how Bryt felt. Not to mention that this time seemed worse, somehow. Bryt had never felt so torn up over an argument with Ron before. She sighed, hugging her robes around her tighter as she got a slight chill that had nothing to do with the wind blowing around her and Harry.

Bryt couldn't even use the excuse that Ron had never accused her of preferring one friend over another before. After all, Ron had done the same thing when Bryt took Hermione's side when arguments came up the year before about Hermione's cat, Crookshanks.

_'Though he made those accusations 'cause I'm afraid of rats,'_ Bryt thought, _'Not that I was personally against him...'_

The thought of Bryt's fear brought back the ever-returning pangs of guilt over what happened with Wormtail and Sirius. Bryt tensed, trying to push it back, when a thought suddenly came to her.

"Harry," Bryt said, turning back to her friend, "Write Sirius. He'll want to know what happened. He'll know what to do."

"Come off it," Harry said, "He came back to the country just because my scar twinged. He'll probably come bursting right into the castle if I tell him someone's entered me in the Triwizard Tournament."

"And the _Daily Prophet_ is bound to have an article about the tournament sooner or later," Bryt pointed out, "Sirius will find out anyway. It'll be better comin' from you."

"Okay, okay, I'll write to him," Harry said, "But I don't have any parchment or a quill."

"I do," Bryt said, sliding her bag off her shoulder. She pulled out a scrap of parchment and her self-inking quill she used for her diary and handed it to Harry.

"Whose owl am I going to use?" Harry asked as the two started back to the castle, "He told me not to use Hedwig again."

"You can borrow Joey," Bryt offered, "As long as I can borrow Hedwig in return. I got a letter to deliver to Sofí."

Harry nodded, agreeing to the plan. When they reached the Owlery, Hedwig and Joey both flew down towards them as Harry wrote a quick letter to Sirius.

"You mind deliverin' this for me, Hedwig?" Bryt asked, holding out her letter, "To Sofí in America? You've delivered letters to Sirius in other countries, I'm sure you can handle this, too."

Hedwig hooted and turned towards Harry while Joey puffed out his tail feathers, looking offended. Once Harry assured Hedwig delivering Bryt's letter would be okay, Hedwig finally agreed. Once she had flown out the window, Bryt turned back to Joey, stroking his feathers.

"We need you to deliver a letter, too, Joey," Bryt said as Harry tied the letter to Joey's leg, "Find Sirius, okay?"

Joey gave a soft hoot, nipping lightly at Bryt's finger before flying off himself. Bryt and Harry waited until both owls had disappeared on the horizon before heading back towards the Gryffindor common room.

**xxxxx**

When classes started back the next day, Bryt learned first-hand what Drew had meant by how the Hufflepuffs felt Harry was 'stealing their glory'. As shown during Herbology, all of the Hufflepuffs seemed to ignore not just Harry, but the entire Gryffindor house.

Ron was still ignoring Harry as well, but had also extended cold shoulder to Bryt, which she had been expecting after their argument. She tried once to talk to Ron, to apologize over the argument(though she felt that Ron should have been the one apologizing to her) because she didn't want to be at odds with one of her best friends, but Ron had turned away to talk with Dean and Seamus before Bryt could even get in the first word. Bryt was more upset than annoyed over that, but decided it was better not to try and make peace with Ron until he finally came to his senses and apologized to her.

Care of Magical Creatures was even worse as the Slytherin half of their class seemed very determined to add in their own taunting over Harry being the fourth champion.

"Got your autograph books ready?" Malfoy taunted, smirking at Harry as he addressed the rest of the Slytherins, "Better get a signature now, because I doubt he's going to be around much longer...Half the Triwizard champions have died...how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter? Ten minutes into the first task's my bet."

As the Slytherins laughed, Bryt gripped her hands tightly into fits, breathing hard through her nose to try and keep her temper in check. Luckily, she would soon have a good distraction as Hagrid brought out the Blast-Ended Skrewts, informing the class that they would spend the day taking them for a walk because he felt the reason they were killing each other was due to built-up energy.

Bryt had trouble at first, being pulled across the ground a few times, but she had actually liked the time walking around with the skrewts. The hard work helped keep her mind off her slowly losing Ron as a friend and worrying about Harry's safety in the tournament.

The next two weeks didn't make things much better for Bryt. She spent all her time with Harry and Hermione, though she still found herself wishing more and more that Ron would call off his no-speaking-terms with her. She actually found herself missing the arguments they got into occasionally and the stupid comments Ron would make that often resulted in Bryt harming the boy in some way.

Over all, she just flat-out missed _Ron_. She didn't say anything about it, but she had a feeling Hermione could tell, though she didn't say anything. The first time Hermione tried to talk to Bryt about the argument, Bryt had told Hermione that she had nothing to say about it. She explained she had tried to talk to Ron and he refused, so if their friendship would be repaired, Ron would have to be the one to step up. Hermione seemed to take the hint and hadn't brought up Ron with Bryt since, though she still tried in not-so-subtle ways to get Ron to talk with Harry and Bryt again by sitting with them and trying to start very forced conversations. None of the attempts worked, however.

Bryt always dreaded Potions class, despite it being her best subject. During the first potions class since the Triwizard champions were announced, Bryt had been surprised she had made it through the class without punching one of the Slytherins for their taunting. As Harry, Bryt, and Hermione made their way to class on the second week following the champions' announcement, Bryt knew this class would be much like the last. Every Slytherin was wearing a large round badge that had in glowing letters reading: SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY—THE **REAL** HOGWARTS CHAMPION.

"Like them, Potter?" Malfoy called, "And this isn't all they do—look!"

Malfoy pressed on his badge and the message suddenly changed to POTTER STINKS. The rest of the Slytherins began laughing and changed their badges as well.

"Very mature," Bryt snapped, glaring at them as she gripped her hands into fits.

"Want one, Watkins?" Malfoy held out a badge with a smirk, "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see; don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."

Harry suddenly yanked out his wand, aiming it towards Malfoy at that. Bryt knew perfectly well that 'Mudblood' was a very nasty slang for someone who was Muggleborn, like her. Though Bryt had grown used to Malfoy calling her that, and she always brushed it off easily when he did, it seemed her friends still took offense against it.

"Go on, then, Potter," Malfoy said, taking out his own wand as people began backing away, "Moody's not here to look after you now—do it, if you've got the guts—"

Bryt wasn't too sure what happened next, just that Harry and Malfoy both shouted jinxes at the same time, where they collided in mid-air and ricocheted in different directions. Hermione made a noise and Bryt spun around, noticing her friend was covering her face with her hands. Bryt, Harry, and Ron all rushed over to Hermione, trying to get her to move her hands. Once she finally did, Bryt gasped as she noticed Hermione's upper front teeth were growing at an alarming rate, now starting to inch past her chin.

"You bastard!" Bryt snapped, spinning around, about to rush forward and punch Malfoy in the face, but Snape had arrived and demanded to know what was going on, which stopped Bryt in her tracks.

Everyone began talking at once, but Snape cut them off and pointed to Malfoy, telling him to explain what had happened.

"Potter attacked me, sir—"

"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry cut in angrily.

"—and he got Goyle, look—"

Bryt looked over towards Goyle as she realized Harry's ricocheted jinx must have hit him, and noticed Goyle's face looked as if he had cleaned it with a leaf of poison oak.

"Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape ordered and Goyle headed off immediately.

"What about Hermione?" Bryt snapped, pointing towards her friend, whose teeth were now reaching past the collar of her shirt. Bryt glared towards the Slytherins, who were literally shaking with silent laughter.

"I see no difference," Snape said, barely glancing at Hermione, who turned suddenly and rushed off through the halls.

Bryt's anger reached a new high. Resisting the urge to punch her teacher, Bryt instead began yelling, calling Snape any rude name she could think of. She hadn't been alone, though, as Harry and Ron began yelling at the same time.

"Let's see," Snape said coldly, "Fifty points from Gryffindor, and a detention each for Potter, Weasley, and Watkins. Now get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detentions."

Bryt was shaking with anger, gripping her bag tightly in her hands as she and Harry found a table in the back, both slamming their bags hard down on the table. Bryt's anger only rose when Ron stomped right past their table and sat down between Dean and Seamus further ahead of them.

Bryt had to force herself to concentrate on the antidotes they were working on. It was hard for her to keep her focus, but she still didn't want to give Snape any chances to ruin her high marks she still held in the class.

Half an hour through the lesson, Bryt was finally beginning to calm down as she focused more and more on her work. A knock on the door distracted her as she looked up to see Colin Creevey coming in, looking beside himself with excitement.

"Yes?" Snape snapped, obviously not liking his class interrupted.

"Please, sir," Colin said, "I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs."

Bryt glanced at Harry, who looked confused, then back to Colin, whose smile was fading from his face as Snape stared at him.

"Potter has another hour of Potions to complete," Snape said, "He will come upstairs when class is finished."

"Sir—sir," Colin said, going pink in the face, "Mr. Bagman wants him. All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs."

Harry groaned, sinking slightly in his chair and Bryt could easily tell her friend just wanted to disappear right there. As Harry tried to hide himself away, Bryt noticed he glanced towards Ron. Bryt followed his glance to see Ron glaring up at the ceiling.

"Very well, very well," Snape snapped at Colin, before turning to Harry, "Potter, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote."

"Please, sir," Colin spoke up again, "He's got to take his things with him. All the champions—"

"Very _well_!" Snape snapped, "Potter—take your bag and get out of my sight!"

Bryt looked over at Harry as he pulled his bag over his shoulder and hurried from the classroom. Snape ordered everyone to get back to work, so Bryt turned back to her antidote, trying to keep her focus fully on it again.


	22. Revelations

Bryt had been hoping things would have been better the next day, and it started to that morning. Bryt had noticed something was different about Hermione instantly when the two were getting ready for classes. When she asked about it, Hermione looked embarrassed and explained that when Madam Pomfrey was fixing her teeth the day before, Hermione had her shrink them to a more normal size than her usual large front teeth. Bryt was surprised Hermione had actually cared that much about her appearance, though she didn't say anything else on it.

When they met up with Harry, he explained to Bryt and Hermione on the way to breakfast that he had gotten a letter from Sirius, wanting Harry to make sure that the common room would be empty at one a.m. on November twenty-second. The three tried to come up with a plan, but could think of nothing besides letting loose a case of dungbombs if people were still around. Though they hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"And hopefully, Harry and I can get Ron to talk to us durin' our detention tonight," Bryt said as the three of them sat down, "Or after it. I know Snape ain't gonna let us talk while we work."

When mail came, however, Bryt's hopes were ruined when she looked at her copy of the _Daily Prophet_. She instantly recognized Harry on the front page, the headline reading HARRY POTTER NAMED TRIWIZARD CHAMPION.

Bryt immediately went to check who wrote the article, tensing when she noticed the name 'Rita Skeeter'.

"There's no way this can be good," Bryt said, showing the paper to Hermione and Harry. Still, the three bent their heads together to read over the story together.

Bryt began gripping the paper tighter and tighter in her hands, her anger rising as she read the lies about Harry that Skeeter managed to spin about Harry's life for the purpose of a good story. Harry kept insisting that he never said a word of what he was quoted to in the article. Bryt already knew that, however. She knew no Rita Skeeter article should be taken seriously.

Just the lies about Harry was bad enough, but one particular part even dragged Bryt into it:

_When Harry was asked about the stone hanging from a chain around his neck, he proudly responded "It was a gift from my girlfriend. I keep it on me for good luck." Upon an interview with Harry's close friend, Colin Creevey, it was revealed who this young woman was. "The first time I ever met Harry Potter," Colin says, "He and Bryt were hugging. I've never seen them apart." This was referring to one Bryttanie Watkins, a pretty Muggleborn who originated from the United States and, like Harry, is very skilled when it comes to potions making._

Bryt slammed the _Daily Prophet_ down on the table, refusing to read more after that as she cursed loudly, attracting the stares of those around her.

"I swear, if I ever get my hands on Skeeter, I'm gonna strangle her!"

"Bryt, calm down," Hermione said.

"Did you even read this, Hermione?" Bryt snapped, looking to her friend, "Did you even read the lies this woman spread about Harry?"

"Yes, I did," Hermione said, "But you shouldn't let what she said about you get to you."

"I don't care what she said about me, it's Harry! He has enough trouble already. He doesn't need to deal with this crap!"

Harry didn't seem to have heard any of the outburst, as he had pulled the article over to him, glaring at the newspaper himself. It seemed he, despite being so furious with the article, still wanted to finish it. Hermione stared at Bryt, obviously about to argue more, but Bryt pushed herself to her feet.

"I need some air," she said, stomping off towards the doors, ignoring the stares following her.

As Bryt predicted, the article brought a lot of ridicule on Harry and Bryt from the rest of the school. It was quoted constantly around them, and the first time someone brought up Harry's Christmas present from the year before, he had hastily shoved the stone under his shirt—the way Ron often wore his.

Though Harry was having a hard time dealing with it, Bryt was handling the situation a lot better. She very rarely got worked up over someone saying something against her(in fact, she angered more when someone was insulting a friend or family member) so after her initial outburst over the article, she was able to brush off the taunts aimed at her. That didn't mean she didn't want to strangle Rita Skeeter for publishing the article in the first place.

Unfortunately, the article had just cemented Ron's beliefs that Harry enjoyed the attention and that Bryt preferred Harry's company over his. Due to this, Ron refused to say anything to either of them during their detention—not that Snape gave them much opportunity to talk, anyway. Bryt was getting less annoyed and more upset about Ron's ignoring as time went on. She wasn't about to admit this to anyone, however.

After another week passed, Bryt was relieved when she heard the first Hogsmeade trip of the year would be the Saturday before the first task. She was eager for a chance to get out of the castle and disappear into a crowd. Despite the fact the taunting didn't bother her, she was still wanting to be where she wouldn't have to deal with it for a few hours.

The night before the Hogsmeade trip, Bryt sat with Hermione in their room, trying to plan out what they'd do the next day.

"Maybe we could try to meet up with Ron at the Three Broomsticks?" Hermione asked cautiously, as if she expected Bryt to go off on her.

Bryt only sighed, however, playing with her bracelet between her hands.

"I'd love to finally settle this with Ron," she said, "I've even tried, you know that. He won't listen to reason. Forcin' us to sit at the same table isn't gonna change that."

"But—"

"No," Bryt cut in, "If this is gonna be settled, it's gonna be Ron's doin'."

"Come on, Bryt," Hermione said, "I _know_ you miss Ron."

Bryt went tense, feeling a slight heat creep into her cheeks. Not wanting to look Hermione in the eye, Bryt turned her attention down to her bracelet between her hands. She was well aware that Hermione was still staring at her and she knew Hermione knew she was right. Bryt missed being with Ron. Far more than she should have.

_'What's _wrong_ with me?'_ Bryt thought, _'I shouldn't be gettin' so worked up over Ron...It's _his_ fault our __friendship's goin' down the drain, after all...'_

"Harry isn't gonna agree to this," Bryt finally said, avoiding Hermione's comment.

"It doesn't hurt to try," Hermione said softly, and Bryt noticed from the corner of her eye that Hermione was giving her a concerned look.

"Fine," Bryt finally said, Hermione's look making her even more uncomfortable, "If Harry agrees, we'll meet up with Ron tomorrow. But he's not goin' to, trust me."

Bryt's prediction turned out to be true. The second Hermione brought up the suggestion, Harry flat-out refused, saying he would go to Hogsmeade, but wouldn't go near Ron and would be wearing his Invisibility Cloak.

It was an odd relief as they walked through the castle. With Harry out of sight under the cloak, no one(outside of those Bryt knew herself) seemed to realize who Bryt was and there weren't any taunts aimed towards her all morning. For a few hours, Bryt could pretend that everything was perfectly normal (aside from Ron not talking to her) and Skeeter's article had never appeared in the _Daily Prophet_.

Bryt and Hermione found it awkward talking with Harry while he was under the cloak, but at least they were together so people weren't thinking they were going insane and talking to themselves. At one point, they ran into Rita Skeeter, though Harry had to point out who she was for Bryt to recognize her. She was a tall woman with a square jaw, her short hair styled into stiff curls and she was wearing elaborate robes and rhinestone-lined glasses.

Bryt had been very temped to trip the woman as she passed, but she resisted the urge. Especially since Skeeter didn't seem to notice Bryt or Hermione, and Bryt knew better than to draw attention to herself when it involved this particular reporter. Especially when she had already been pulled into false stories about Harry.

Once Skeeter was out of sight, the three decided to head to the Three Broomsticks for butterbeers. The pub was packed as usual, which made it a little hard to make their way through the crowd towards one of the few empty tables left.

As they tried to make their way across, Hermione and Bryt trying to keep room between them for Harry to move easier without bumping into anyone accidentally. Halfway through the pub, Bryt spotted Ron sitting with Fred, George, and Lee. When Ron glanced up, Bryt stopped as he noticed her. Bryt took a half step forward, about to head over and sit down with them. She had a nearly irresistible urge to force Ron to finally talk to her. She stopped herself, though, tensing up to keep herself from moving again. Bryt had to remind herself that Ron turned her away when she tried to apologize before. It wasn't about to work now. No matter how much she wanted it to.

"Bryt?"

Bryt jumped, spinning around to see Hermione giving her a concerned look, her hand on Bryt's shoulder. As Bryt slowly came out of her thoughts and the buzzing of conversations rushed up again around her, she suddenly became very aware of just how crowded the Three Broomsticks was. It was almost suffocating, as if everything was closing in on her.

"I'm not thirsty," Bryt blurted, suddenly desperate to get away from the crowd. When Hermione looked like she was about to protest, Bryt continued, speaking quickly. "I'm fine. I just need some air."

Hermione looked over towards the table where Ron was and Bryt pushed through the crowd to get out before Hermione could say anything else.

Once outside, Bryt closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, feeling relieved to be away from the crowd.

_'I wonder if this is how Julio feels...'_ Bryt thought, knowing Julio was claustrophobic and always hated to be in crowds. If it was, she had to wonder how Julio ever managed it.

Bryt sighed, shoving her hands into her pockets as she walked down the street. She passed Hagrid and Moody and waved to Hagrid with a grin—a gesture he returned enthusiastically. Bryt avoided looking at Moody, but she was sure that his magical eye would have followed her to make sure she wouldn't be watching them once they passed each other.

As Bryt turned onto the path leading from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, her thoughts returned to her sudden need to get out of the Three Broomsticks after she saw Ron.

_'Damn it, what's _wrong_ with me?'_ Bryt asked herself, kicking a stone nearby.

A small voice in the back of her mind gave her the answer and Bryt went tense.

_'No way. Not gonna happen.'_

Bryt kicked another stone, glaring in front of her as she tried to push away the voice. There was no way she was attracted to Ron. He was like one of her brothers! It would be like if she wanted to date Mike or Drew. It was simply wrong.

But still...It would explain why this fight with Ron hit her a lot harder than any before had. Why, for that split second, she had wanted to go sit with Ron and force him to talk to her again. Why she missed being around him much more than she should have.

_'He's my friend, that's why I miss him,'_ Bryt told herself, _'Nothing more...Besides, he'd never care like that anyway, so it doesn't matter...Not that I actually care if he'd care like that. I don't.'_

Bryt had reached Hogwarts now, but she didn't feel like going up to the common room. She knew the Creevey brothers would most likely be there, trying to change SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY badges into SUPPORT HARRY POTTER ones. Bryt didn't feel like going to the library, either, considering Viktor Krum was often there. It wouldn't have been that bad, considering Krum never bothered them. He always stayed at the same corner, doing his own work. It was the gang of giggling girls that were always following him around that made the library a place to avoid now. Even Hermione of all people was avoiding the library because of it.

Bryt decided finally to go to the Owlery. Once there, Joey came flying down to her and she grinned, petting the owl.

"Bryt? Why aren't you at Hogsmeade?"

Bryt spun around, going tense again as she noticed Terry Boot standing nearby, tying a letter to an owl's leg. Bryt recognized the owl as Terry's horned owl, Scammer(Bryt had often asked about the name, but Terry always refused to say, finding it amusing how annoyed Bryt got over it).

"I could ask you the same thing," Bryt finally said, feeling awkward. After all, the last time she and Terry had 'talked', they had been yelling at each other in front of half the school.

"Wasn't feeling well today," Terry said with a shrug, looking as uncomfortable about their run-in as Bryt felt.

Bryt nodded, turning her attention back to Joey as an awkward silence fell over the two. Bryt felt as if she should try to say something, but what _could_ she say to the boy she once dated, then broke up with—very loudly at that—because he thought she was dating Harry or Ron?

_'Bet Skeeter's article didn't help that,'_ Bryt thought sourly.

"So, I heard you and Harry are dating," Terry said, as if he could sense Bryt's thoughts, though there was an odd tone in his voice, "Congratulations."

"Harry and I are _not_ datin'," Bryt said, unable to hold back the burst of anger, "Skeeter's full of crap."

Bryt could see from the corner of her eye that Terry wasn't sure whether to believe her or not. Bryt turned fully to him.

"Listen, Terry," she said, "I was tellin' you the truth at the beginnin' of the year. I am _not_ datin' either Harry or Ron. Never have been."

_'Never will,'_ Bryt added. Though, for some reason, she couldn't get herself to say it as Ron came to the front of her thoughts again.

Terry continued to stare at Bryt, obviously trying to decide if she was telling the truth or not. Bryt crossed her arms over her chest, determined not to back down. Finally, Terry gave a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck slightly.

"I guess I seriously messed this up," he said with an awkward grin.

"Yeah, you did," Bryt said, though she couldn't help but start grinning herself. It was hard to stay mad at Terry when he was actually admitting his mistake.

_'Somethin' Ron would never do. He's too stubborn,'_ Bryt thought, then took a sharp breath through her nose and tried to push away the thought.

"Listen..." Terry said slowly, looking uncomfortable, "What do you think about putting this mess behind us?"

Bryt blinked, cocking her head, wondering if Terry was actually suggesting what she thought he was. Terry raised his hands defensively, continuing quickly.

"I don't mean trying to start dating again," he said, "I mean, I doubt we could after what happened...But maybe we could still be friends?"

Bryt grinned a little. The thought of keeping a friendship with Terry sounded like a good idea to her and she found herself oddly relieved that Terry didn't want to try and pursue a romantic relationship again.

It left her free for Ron, as the small voice pointed out. Bryt immediately pushed it away. Dating Ron was not going to happen, no matter how much that little voice kept up about it. Oddly, the voice always sounded like Sofí.

_'Not too odd,'_ Bryt reminded herself, _'That girl's been obsessed with gettin' me to date Harry or Ron for years.'_

Bryt realized Terry was waiting for an answer and pushed her thoughts back again, grinning at the Ravenclaw.

"Yeah, sure," Bryt said, "Bein' friends sounds nice."

Terry grinned and held out his hand. Bryt gave a short nod as she took his hand, shaking it.

"So, see you around," Terry said, "And, er...Tell Harry I said good luck on Tuesday."

"I will," Bryt said, watching as Terry left. She turned back to Joey, thinking about what happened and about her being at odds with Ron.

_'Why can't it always be this easy?'_ Bryt thought, though she already knew the answer. Ron was the most stubborn person Bryt ever met. Even when he was wrong, he wasn't going to admit it. It was going to have to take something drastic for Ron to finally give in and start talking to Harry and Bryt again. Even then, Bryt was sure he still wouldn't apologize for ignoring them in the first place.

Bryt sighed, deciding to head on from the Owlery and try to decide where to go next, not in much of a mood to talk with anyone anymore. Due to this, Bryt didn't see Harry or Hermione the rest of the day. She stayed out, walking along the grounds until it became too dark and too cold. When she went up to the common room, neither Harry or Hermione were there so Bryt went up to the dormitories and wrote in her diary before finally deciding to go to bed, knowing Hermione would be able to help Harry clear out the common room before his conversation with Sirius that was coming up.

The next morning, while getting ready, Hermione told Bryt that Hagrid had wanted Harry to meet him out on the grounds after hours and Hermione didn't know if Harry had made it back in time to talk to Sirius. Bryt was curious about what Hagrid wanted Harry for, but Hermione didn't know and they had reached the Great Hall, so they had to drop the subject as they ate breakfast with Ginny.

Bryt was worried when Harry came over, looking like he was going to be sick. Bryt and Hermione finished off their breakfast quickly, said goodbye to Ginny, and headed out onto the grounds with Harry.

"We're facing dragons on the first task," Harry said once they were out of danger of being overheard. Bryt and Hermione stared at Harry in shock.

"_Dragons_?" Bryt echoed with an odd mixture of excitement and terror, "They're makin' you face _dragons_?"

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, her face pale.

"I saw them," Harry said, "It's what Hagrid wanted to show me last night."

Bryt stared at Harry, though in the back of her mind, she couldn't help but wonder why Hagrid didn't invite her to see the dragons as well. He knew Bryt was just as fascinated with magical creatures as he was, after all.

_'Maybe he _did_ invite me,'_ Bryt thought, _'I kept to myself all afternoon, so I wouldn't know...'_

"What about your meeting with Sirius?" Hermione asked, "Did you make it back in time?"

"Yeah," Harry said with a nod, "He told me that Karkaroff—the Durmstrang headmaster—he used to be a Death Eater—"

"What?" both girls asked, horrified. Bryt shuddered, clearly remembering the hooded men at the Quidditch World Cup.

"No wonder Durmstrang is known for Dark Arts," Bryt said, "But why ain't he in Azkaban?"

"He was," Harry said, "Apparently, he made a deal with the Ministry of Magic and named a lot of other Death Eaters, so he was released."

"Maybe he put your name in the Goblet," Bryt said, "To get you killed."

"Sirius thinks so."

"Well, let's just try to keep you alive until Tuesday evening," Hermione said weakly, "And then we can worry about Karkaroff."

"Sirius said a simple spell would be able to do the trick against dragons," Harry said, looking to Bryt as they walked.

"What?" Bryt asked, "Why're you lookin' at me like that?"

"Well, you _are_ the creature expert," Harry said, "I figured you'd know what to do."

"Hey, the only 'simple' spell I know that'll work against dragons is a stunnin' spell," Bryt said, "But it ain't exactly that simple. You have to have several witches and wizards castin' the spell at the same time. Dragon hide is very resistant to magic. The eyes are the weakest point, but they'd be nearly impossible to hit. Not exactly somethin' simple to do."

"Are you _sure_ you don't know of a spell?" Harry asked, looking devastated.

"I may know a lot about creatures," Bryt said in a huff, "But that doesn't mean I know _everythin'_."

"Look, I'm sure there's something in the library that can help us," Hermione said, "Why don't we go check there?"

"Good idea," Bryt said and Harry agreed.

Plan set, the three made their way to the library, trying to find any book they could on dragons. They didn't have much luck since most of the books only repeated what Bryt had already told them about dragon hides being resistant to magic and the complicated spells that had to be cast from multiple wizards. Giving up on that plan, they began looking at books on simple spells, though that didn't last long either as Krum had arrived, soon followed by the usual gang of giggling girls. Unable to concentrate after that, the three checked out a few books on simple spells and went back to the common room to continue their research.

Despite all their work, they couldn't find anything that night. It wasn't until Harry came rushing into Herbology late the next day that they any type of lead.

"You two have to help me," Harry whispered urgently as he sat down with Hermione and Bryt, who were trying to prune a Flutterby Bush.

"We have been," Bryt whispered back.

"Yes, I know," Harry replied, "But I need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm properly by tomorrow afternoon."

Bryt and Hermione both stopped in their work and stared at Harry. They had been working on Summoning Charms in their Charms class and it had been a rare time where Bryt actually picked up on doing the charm fairly quickly, though Harry was always given extra homework as he couldn't quite get the spell down.

"Why do you need to know how to do a Summoning Charm by then?" Hermione asked.

"So I can Summon my Firebolt," Harry whispered, "I can use it to fly past the dragon."

Bryt and Hermione exchanged a look. It was clear on both their faces that they thought the plan actually had a a small chance of working. After all, Harry was an excellent flier and a Summoning Charm _was_ a very simple charm, once someone knew how to do it.

"Okay, we'll start practicing during lunch," Hermione said quietly.

Not wanting to risk getting in trouble with Sprout, the three returned to their Herbology task at hand. Bryt couldn't stop thinking about what Harry was planning to do to get past the dragon, though.

_'I really hope this plan works...'_ she thought desperately, dreading the next afternoon. At least they'd know then how things would turn out. One way or the other.


	23. The Four Dragons

Bryt twisted her bracelet in her hands as she and Hermione followed the crowd of students across the Hogwarts grounds.

"I hope this plan works," Bryt said nervously, glancing towards the tent nearby where the four Champions were waiting to face the dragons.

"So do I," Hermione replied, sounding just as nervous as Bryt—she even looked a little pale, "But Harry was finally starting to get the hang of the spell last night...I'm sure this will work."

Bryt nodded, remembering how they had spent every spare moment until well past midnight helping Harry learn how to do a Summoning Charm. Harry had finally begun to cause objects to fly to him with ease, so they had gone to bed so Harry would be well-rested for the task coming up. Bryt doubted he slept much, though. Bryt knew _she_ hadn't slept much at all, and she wasn't the one who was about to face a dragon.

The excited conversations mixed together in a buzz of noise as they went along a path into the forest. They made their way to a set of stands around some type of enclosure and most everyone let out gasps. Bryt glanced towards the enclosure and saw one of the dragons Harry had talked about was already there, curled around a nest of eggs. The school had been told during lunch(after the Champions had been herded from the room) that the first task would involve getting past dragons to retrieve a golden egg. Even though they knew there would be dragons, it was still a surprise for most to see the creature. Bryt glanced towards the edge of the enclosure where around a dozen witches and wizards were waiting, Charlie Weasley easily recognizable among them by his bright red hair.

Bryt turned to the silvery-blue dragon guarding her eggs and recognized her as a Swedish Short-Snout—a dragon with a powerful attack and whose hide was the most commonly used in the protective dragon-hide gloves.

"Come on, Bryt, we can sit over here," Hermione said, taking Bryt by the arm to lead her through the crowd.

Bryt stared at Hermione, wondering why she was so keen on whatever seats she saw, and Bryt realized why as they got closer. Ron was sitting there with a couple of empty seats beside him.

"Hermione, no," Bryt said, pulling her arm loose, "No."

Hermione spun around, propping her hands on her hips and gave Bryt a look that reminded Bryt strongly of how her mother would stare at her when she was in trouble.

"I'm tired of you and Harry moping because Ron isn't around," Hermione started and Bryt tensed, staring at Hermione.

"I have _not_ been mopin'—"

"Yes you have!" Hermione cut in, "Now come on. We're going to sit with him."

Bryt started to protest more, but stopped herself. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to put everything behind them and make up with Ron. He was the one who was being stubborn.

_'Maybe now's the chance to set things right,'_ Bryt thought. As they continued along the row towards Ron, an idea suddenly came to Bryt. She knew Ron wasn't likely going to apologize for how he had been acting. If she pressed the issue, it'd only cause more problems. The best thing for her to do was to just sit down and pretend their argument never happened in the first place. To act as if everything was perfectly fine. With any luck, Ron would either do the same or bring the issue himself. Either way, Bryt would be relieved to put everything behind them.

Bryt took a deep breath, slipping her bracelet back over her wrist as she whispered to Hermione what she was planning to do. Hermione nodded, whispering a quick 'good luck' and Bryt added her own silent prayer that this would work.

When the two girls reached where Ron was, he looked up at them and blinked, though when he noticed Bryt, his gaze narrowed slightly. Bryt straightened herself up, determined not to back down.

"Hey Ron," she said cheerfully, grinning the best she could as she sat next to him. Whatever comment Ron had been planning seemed to die off as he stared at Bryt with a confused expression. Bryt continued on quickly, taking advantage of the moment before Ron could recover himself.

"I wonder what the other three dragons will be," Bryt said, staring towards the Swedish Short-Snout, "If they're like this one, that's nesting mothers. The Champions're gonna have their work cut out for them."

Ron still didn't say anything. He looked over to Hermione this time, as if expecting an explanation from her, but she only shrugged.

"I hope they'll be okay," she said, showing her shrug had been in response to Bryt, "They said the challenges were supposed to be safe..."

"Nestin' dragons are anythin' but safe," Bryt said, "I mean, dragons are dangerous on their own. But nestin' dragons are even worse."

Ron was still looking between Bryt and Hermione, as if he weren't sure they were really sitting there, talking as if nothing were wrong. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but a loud whistle blew. Bryt looked back towards the enclosure and noticed a long table behind the dragon where the three school heads were sitting with Mr. Crouch. A couple of minutes later, Mr. Bagman came running up, taking the empty seat at the table.

Cheering erupted through the crowd and Bryt looked over to see Diggory had come from the opening on the other side of the enclosure. Even from up in the stands, Bryt could see Diggory looked almost sick from nerves as he stared at the Swedish Short-Snout across from him. The dragon stared back and, for a few moments, it seemed as if Cedric wasn't going to do anything at all, as if he were frozen from fear.

"Some Champion he is," Ron said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes. Bryt elbowed him in the side and Ron glared at her. Bryt couldn't help but grin when he noticed Ron's expression seemed more annoyed than hateful.

"And you think you'd do better if you were facin' a dragon?" Bryt asked.

"Of course."

Bryt snorted. She seriously doubted Ron would fare well against a dragon. Especially with the entire school watching him.

Diggory finally seemed to shake off his nerves as he darted forward across the enclosure. He seemed to think the best tactic was to just try and sneak past the dragon, but the Swedish Short-Snout noticed him and set out a jet of blue flames.

"Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow," Bagman called as Diggory just narrowly ducked behind some rocks to avoid being hit.

Bryt pushed herself up slightly to get a better view over the people in front of her. Diggory looked around him at his hiding spot before gripping his wand and aiming it at a nearby rock. He called out some spell that Bryt couldn't hear and the rock slowly morphed into a Labrador.

"That's pretty cool," Ron commented as the dog ran towards one end of the enclosure, holding the dragon's attention.

"It's cruel to the dog," Bryt shot back, glaring slightly.

"The dog's not really alive, though. It was a rock only a second ago."

"It's still a dog!" Bryt snapped.

"Hush, Diggory's going for the egg again!" Hermione cut into Bryt and Ron's argument before it could go any further.

Bryt turned back to the enclosure, seeing that Hermione was right. Now that the dragon was watching the Labrador, Diggory was trying to get to the eggs again.

"He's taking risks, that one!" Bagman called as Diggory moved closer to the nest, stopping every few steps to make sure the dragon was still watching the dog and not him.

He was nearly there when the dragon suddenly lost interest in the dog and turned back to Diggory, shooting out another jet of flames. Gasps echoed through the crowd and Bryt clamped her hands over her mouth. She couldn't see any sign of Diggory now through the flames and smoke.

"Clever move—pity it didn't work!" Bagman called.

_'How the hell is this _safe_?'_ Bryt thought as the dragon handlers started forward when Diggory still didn't appear. When the smoke of the dragon's flames settled, cheers started echoing through the crowd as people noticed Diggory was gripping his golden egg.

"Oh God, his face!" Bryt said through her hands, a sickening feeling rushing through her as she noticed, even from where she was sitting in the stands, that half of Diggory's face had been burned and his robes were charred and smoking.

While several of the wizards tried to calm the dragon, a couple of others helped Diggory from the enclosure. It seemed the pain was sinking in fast because Diggory was stumbling after the first few steps, having to use the wizards next to him for support.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Hermione asked, standing on her toes to look off towards where Diggory had left.

"Of course," Ron said, "Madam Pomfrey will have him back to normal in no time."

Diggory was back out a minute later, some type of purple goo over the burnt half of his face. The handlers had removed the Swedish Short-Snout, and now Bagman was announcing that the judges were ready with their scores.

Maxime raised her wand into the air and a silvery light shot from the end, forming into a figure eight. Bryt clapped with the rest of the crowd. Crouch and Dumbledore both scored Diggory's work with an eight as well, though Bagman gave a nine and Karkaroff a five.

"_Five?_" Bryt and Ron echoed.

"C'mon!" Bryt continued, barely heard over the hisses and boos from the crowd, "He got burned, so what? Diggory deserves more than a _five_!"

"Just watch, I bet the only one he'll score more than a five for is Krum," Ron said, crossing his arms over his chest as Diggory left and the dragon handlers began working to bring in the next dragon.

"I wouldn't be surprised at all," Bryt said, catching Hermione staring at her from the corner of her eye, "...What?"

"Nothing," Hermione said with an odd grin, turning back to the enclosure. Bryt stared at her for a second, then turned to see what the next dragon would be.

"Oh, cool, a Welsh Green!" Bryt said, recognizing the lush green dragon curling up around her nest of eggs, "They usually don't interact with humans, though I doubt that'll mean whoever has to face it will get off easy."

"Bryt? I don't need the dragon lesson," Ron said.

"Well, you can deal with it," Bryt replied with a smirk, "It's not often I get to share what I know."

"Maybe because you just want to know useless facts."

"I'll remember that the next time you ask for help in Potions."

Ron stared at Bryt, opening his mouth for a second, then closing it again.

"I...er...Not _everything_ you say is useless," he said slowly and Bryt laughed. She suddenly realized it had been a long time since she and Ron were able to talk so normally around each other.

Then Bryt remembered it was because Ron had refused to talk to her for the past month.

_'Well, he's talkin' to me now,'_ Bryt thought happily. She was never one to hold grudges against her friends, or at least she didn't hold a grudge for more than a few hours. Now that Ron was talking to her, she wasn't about to bring up how Ron had been. After all, that would just make things worse again.

"One down, three to go!" Bagman called out as the whistle blew again, "Miss Delacour, if you please!"

Delacour came into the enclosure, her body tense and her wand tight in her hand. Ron jumped up for a better look and Bryt huffed, gripping Ron by the back of his robes and yanking him back down in his seat.

Bryt watched as Delacour moved towards the center of the enclosure, staring determinedly at the dragon across from her. She lifted her wand, slowly moving closer her mouth moving, though it was too quiet for anyone in the stands to hear.

"What's she doin'?" Bryt asked.

"It looks like she's trying to do some type of incantation," Hermione answered.

The Welsh Green didn't seem to want to submit to Delacour's plan, however, and swung her tail at the girl, breaking Delacour's concentration and causing her to retreat out of range. Once she seemed to think it was safe again, Delacour moved closer, trying her charm again while also trying to stay far enough away that the Welsh Green wouldn't find her a threat.

Bryt watched curiously as the dragon's head began to bob up and down until, slowly, the dragon had fallen asleep.

"Gotta admit she's clever," Bryt said slowly, "Enchantin' a dragon to fall asleep's a lot smarter than distractin' one with a dog."

Delacour waited for about a minute, apparently wanting to make sure the dragon was going to stay asleep, before edging closer towards the nest of eggs.

"Careful now," Bagman said as Delacour paused, glancing to the sleeping dragon again. Bryt leaned forward to get a better over the people in front of her as Delacour reached the nest.

It was just then that the Welsh Green let out a loud snore, accompanied by a short blast of flames. Delacour moved out of the way quickly, but the end of her robes caught fire in the process.

"Good lord, I thought she'd had it then!" Bagman said as Delacour used her wand to put out the flames.

The setback only seemed to make the tall blonde even more determined. Once she doused the last of the flames, she turned back to the dragon and began moving towards the nest again. This time, her approach was uneventful and she soon had her golden egg gripped tightly in her hands.

Bryt cheered with the rest of the crowd, surprised at how well Delacour had done. She had underestimated the woman, sure that she was nothing more than a pretty face. If Delacour kept up the way she was, Bryt could understand why she had been chosen as the Beauxbatons Champion.

_'Don't mean I'll like her, though,'_ Bryt told herself. Delacour might be a good champion, but if that first day was anything to go by, the girl was stuck up and full of herself.

Once the dragon was taken away, Delacour received her scores. She received nines from Dumbledore and Maxime, and a five from Karkaroff ("No surprise there," Bryt and Ron commented), but sevens from Crouch and Bagman.

"Sevens?" Bryt asked, "C'mon, Delacour was better than Diggory! She didn't even get injured, and she got her egg faster! Why're they scorin' her lower?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, "It doesn't seem fair."

It was impossible to see from the stands what Delacour thought of her scores, though. She simply turned and headed back towards the tents as the dragon handlers began to bring in the next dragon.

"A Chinese Fireball!" Bryt said as she recognized the long, vividly red dragon.

"Don't start up again," Ron said with a groan and Bryt glared at him, but decided not to say anything.

"And here comes Mr. Krum!" Bagman called and Bryt turned to see the famous Quidditch player coming into the enclosure. Bryt joined in the loud cheering that started up and several people began loudly chanting Krum's name.

Krum stood tense, watching the dragon in front of him. He cautiously moved forward and Bryt could see he still didn't seem to be nearly as graceful on the ground as he was on a broom. Krum raised his wand, shouting out some spell, though it just bounced off the dragon's nose. The Chinese Fireball let out a puff of mushroom-shaped smoke from her nostrils, obviously annoyed with Krum's attack, but she was unwilling to leave her nest.

"Of course!" Hermione said, smacking herself on the forehead, "The Conjunctivitis Curse! Why didn't we think of that?"

"The what?" Ron asked. Bryt shrugged, turning to Hermione.

"I told you before," she said, "The only weak point on a dragon is their eyes. It's nearly impossible to hit them. Harry wouldn't have had a chance for—"

The Chinese Fireball suddenly started making a loud, howling noise that cut Bryt off. She spun to face the enclosure and noticed the dragon was shaking her head, still howling as if in pain.

"Looks like Krum hit it," Ron said.

"That's horrible!" Bryt hissed, glaring as Krum started making his way towards the eggs while the dragon blindly thrashed around, "Completely horrible! There're better ways t'get to the eggs without harmin' the dragon!"

"Bryt, that thing could kill him!" Ron said.

"That's why the handlers are here, t'make sure that ain't gonna happen!"

"Both of you stop it!" Hermione said, on the edge of her seat as Krum suddenly had to run from the nest as the dragon began thrashing closer to him.

Bryt tensed again, gripping her hands tightly around her bracelet as the Chinese Fireball brought one of her feet down on her own nest, blind and in too much pain to realize what she was doing.

"Damn it," Bryt hissed, glaring ahead of her as Krum tried to avoid the dragon, who was still destroying half her nest.

Krum came running back out from under the Chinese Fireball's legs, the afternoon sun reflecting off of something in his arms. The crowd began cheering as Bagman announced that Krum had his golden egg and the dragon handlers raced forward to calm the dragon before removing her and what remained of her nest.

"Krum's has to be the best so far!" Ron called over the cheering.

Bryt snorted in disagreement, too angry to say anything. Truthfully, she thought Krum had done the worst. Yes, he got his egg without being injured, and had done it the fastest so far, but he had put the dragon in obvious pain and destroyed half of the dragon's nest. Going by strategy and results, Bryt had to admit that, so far, Delacour's attempt had been the best.

Bryt was cheered slightly when Krum began getting the lowest-average on scores so far with two sevens and two eights. That changed when Karkaroff raised his wand in the air, giving Krum a ten—putting him in first place.

"_Ten?_" Bryt yelled, jumping to her feet, "Yer a biased bastard! Krum caused the dragon t'destroy half her nest, what're y'thinkin', givin' him a ten?"

"Bryt, settle down!" Hermione said as she and Ron both grabbed onto the back of Bryt's robes and yanked her back down into her seat. Bryt glared between them, gripping her bracelet so tightly in her hands that she was sure to have the stones leave an imprint in her palms.

Luckily, with all the cheering, only the people around Bryt had heard her protesting. Several of them were giving her strange looks, but Bryt ignored it, continuing to curse under her breath as the dragon handlers began moving in the final dragon.

"Oh crap..." Bryt whispered, her anger quickly turning into worry as she realized which dragon Harry was about to face.

"What?" Ron looked over at Bryt with a confused expression.

"Ron, that's a Hungarian Horntail."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, suddenly looking worried as she looked towards the black dragon. It was clear on her face, however, that she had recognized the dragon's breed as well.

"Aren't Horntails really dangerous?" Ron asked.

"Probably the most violent breed," Bryt answered, "I hope Harry'll be okay..."

"I'm sure he will be," Hermione said weakly, "His plan's a good one."

"But he's not Summonin' somethin' from across a room. He's Summonin' his broom from his room up at the castle."

"Harry's going to _fly_ to get past the dragon?" Ron asked in disbelief.

Bryt was about to answer, but the crowd had begun cheering even louder than with Krum as Harry came into the enclosure. His face seemed ghostly white against his dark hair and it seemed to take Harry a second to compose himself before raising his wand and shouting the Summoning charm, though his voice was drowned by the cheering of the crowd.

"Please work..." Bryt muttered, gripping her bracelet again and bouncing her foot anxiously, "Please work..._Please work_..."

After nearly a minute, the broom came soaring into the enclosure and stopped next to Harry. The crowd began yelling even louder as Harry mounted his broom and shot straight up into the air. Bryt started cheering as well, relieved that the spell had managed to work from such a long distance.

Harry suddenly went into a dive and Bryt jumped her her feet, watching as Harry got closer and closer to the ground...The Horntail reared her head back, obviously about to let out a breath of fire. Bryt sucked her breath in and held it, knowing this would be bad considering the Horntail's fire had the longest range among the dragons.

Amazingly, Harry pulled out of the dive and shot back into the air just as the Horntail attacked. Bryt let out her breath, cheering loudly with the crowd as Harry began circling the Horntail's head from a safe distance above.

"Great Scott, he can fly!" Bagman called, "Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"

Bryt kept her hands tight around her bracelet, watching as Harry kept lowering and rising around the Horntail's head. Soon, the dragon let out another blast of flames that Harry dodged—though she had also attacked with her tail, swiping Harry across the shoulder.

Bryt slapped her hands over her mouth with a gasp, her bracelet(that had been loosely around her fingers) clanking against her teeth, though she ignored it. She relaxed a little when it didn't seem Harry had been too injured as he straightened himself quickly and returned to flying around the Horntail's head.

Slowly, Harry rose more and more, but still kept himself close enough that the Horntail watched him. She kept stretching higher with Harry, obviously longing to get to him to protect her eggs.

"He's trying to lure her away from the nest!"

No sooner had the words left Hermione's mouth, the Horntail suddenly let out a roar and rose onto her hind legs, leaving her nest exposed. Harry went into another dive and Bryt held her breath, watching anxiously as Harry disappeared under the dragon—then he was in the air again, the golden egg secure under his arm.

Bryt cheered, throwing her arms around Hermione next to her as they both started jumping up and down.

"HE DID IT! HE DID IT!"

"Look at that!" Bagman's voice was barely heard over the screaming and cheering of the crowd, "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is the quickest to get his egg! Well, that is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"

"WAY TO GO, HARRY!" Bryt screamed, grinning brightly as she turned to Hermione and Ron, "C'mon, let's get down there before Harry comes back for his scores."

Hermione and Ron both agreed and the three made their way through the crowd, down to the tents on the edge of the enclosure. They rushed into the smaller tent, where Harry was standing, no signs of any cuts on his shoulder now—except for the rips in his robes.

"Harry, you were amazin'!" Bryt said, rushing forward and hugging her friend.

"Absolutely brilliant!" Hermione added.

Though Harry didn't seem to hear them as he stared over at Ron standing in the doorway. Bryt went tense, looking over to Hermione, her friend's worried expression mirroring her own. She couldn't help but wonder if Harry and Ron were about to get into another fight. And now that the action of the first task was over, Bryt wondered if Ron would suddenly turn cold on her again as well.

"Harry," Ron started, "Whoever put your name in that goblet—I—I reckon they're trying to do you in!"

_'At least he believes Harry now,'_ Bryt thought, looking between the two boys.

"Caught on, have you?" Harry asked, "Took you long enough."

Bryt swallowed, looking towards Ron and expecting an outburst. Ron didn't, however. Instead, an uncomfortable look crossed his face and he opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked between Bryt and Hermione, as if they would tell him how he was supposed to react.

"It's okay," Harry suddenly said, grinning, "Forget it."

"No," Ron stuttered, "I shouldn't've—"

"_Forget it_," Harry said again.

Ron gave a nervous grin and Bryt let out a laugh in relief. It seemed like everything was going to be fine with them again.

Hermione, on the other hand, started crying. Bryt blinked, confused.

"There's nothing to cry about!" Harry blurted, staring at Hermione as if she suddenly grew another head.

"You two are so _stupid_!" Hermione snapped, turning and running from the tent. Harry, Ron, and Bryt only stood and stared.

"Barking mad," Ron muttered, breaking the silence before turning to Harry, "C'mon, they'll be putting up your scores soon."

Harry nodded, picked up his Firebolt and egg, and followed Ron and Bryt from the tent. As they started towards the enclosure again, Bryt and Ron both began talking at once, telling Harry about the other three champions' attempts for the egg. Though Ron said Harry had done the best, Bryt still felt Delacour's attempt was, despite her having the lowest score so far. Even though Harry had gotten his egg faster, he had relied on his broom. Delacour had used only her wand. Not to mention, despite her robes catching on fire, Delacour had not been injured during her attempt.

Bryt and Ron had just finished explaining about the other champions when the three reached the enclosure again. The Horntail was gone and it seemed the judges were ready to score Harry's attempt.

"It marks out of ten from each one," Ron explained.

Maxime raised her wand first, sending a silver figure eight into the sky.

"Not bad!" Ron said, "I suppose she took marks off for your shoulder..."

Crouch and Dumbledore both gave Harry a nine, then Bagman sent a silvery ten into the air.

"Ten?" Harry asked, obviously confused, "But...I got hurt...What's he playing at?"

"Harry, don't complain!" Ron said and Bryt laughed.

Karkaroff was next. Bryt wasn't surprised when the man sent up a silvery four.

"_What_?" Ron yelled, his face going red, "_Four_? You lousy, biased scumbag, you gave Krum a ten!"

"Ron, calm down!" Bryt said with a laugh, though she really shouldn't have said anything considering her own outburst earlier.

"You're tied in first place, Harry! You and Krum!" Charlie Weasley was making his way over to them, grinning brightly, "Listen, I've got to run, I've got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I'd tell her what happened—but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah—and they told me to tell you you've got to hang around for a few more minutes...Bagman wants a word, back at the champions' tent."

"We'll wait," Bryt said with a grin and Harry nodded, heading back towards the tents. Bryt turned towards Ron, blinking as she noticed he suddenly looked uncomfortable, staring at Bryt with an odd expression.

"What?" Bryt asked.

"Have I ever told you that you're the most mental person I've ever met?" Ron blurted, almost sounding confused.

"What're you talkin' about?" Bryt asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You! I've ignored you all month, then earlier you just sit down and act like nothing's wrong! What is _wrong_ with you?"

Bryt groaned. She was hoping that Ron would just be happy with them talking again and not bring this up.

"Listen, Ron," Bryt said, "I agree with Harry. Let's just forget all this, okay? I don't like not gettin' to hang out with my friends."

Ron looked like he was about to argue, but then thought better of it and nodded.

"You're right," he said, "But you're still mental."

Bryt laughed, grinning as Harry came back.

"So, should we get goin'?" Bryt asked. Both boys agreed and they started along the trees, back towards the castle.

"Oh, Bryt," Harry said suddenly, handing the golden egg over to Ron before pulling something out of his pocket and pushing it into Bryt's hands. Confused, Bryt looked down to see a small, lifelike model of the Hungarian Horntail.

"Harry, this is yours," Bryt said, holding her hand out. Harry just grinned and shook his head.

"You're the dragon-lover," he said, "There's no way you'll ever get a real dragon, so this one will have to do."

Bryt threw her arms around Harry, hugging him tightly as she thanked him.

"Congratulations, Harry!"

Bryt jerked away, spinning around to see Rita Skeeter standing nearby, holding an acid-green quill and grinning mischievously. Bryt glared at the woman, fighting not to grip her hands into fists so she wouldn't break the Horntail model.

"I was wondering if you might give me a quick word?" Skeeter asked, giving a quick glance at Bryt before turning her attention back to Harry, "And maybe a comment from your lovely girlfriend? How did you feel facing the dragon? How do you feel _now_, about the fairness of the scoring?" Skeeter looked towards Bryt again and was about to continue, but Harry cut in.

"Yeah, you can have a word," he snapped, "_Goodbye_."

Harry turned with that, heading off. Bryt and Ron exchanged a grin before hurrying after him. As they walked, Bryt and Ron gave Harry more details on the other three champions' attempts at facing the dragons, and Bryt felt better than she had in days. Ron was speaking to them again. Bryt knew that nothing was going to ruin this mood now.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for the long delay. This chapter would have been up a couple of weeks ago, but preparing for a family trip cut into my time and I didn't get a chance to work on it until after we were back. Plus, as mentioned before, I always struggle through action scenes when Bryt is observing instead of participating in it and I also had to try and keep to the facts given in the book and not make a champion's attempt too long or drawn out. I'm not all that happy with some of it, but I usually never am, anyway.


	24. Surprise in the Kitchen

"Have you realized you've been grinning all afternoon?"

"Huh?" Bryt looked up at Hermione, who was sitting next to her in the common room. The bushy-haired girl had to lean close for Bryt to be able to hear her over the loud commotion around them as the Gryffindors were celebrating Harry's victory during the first task. Dean had even decorated the common room with banners depicting Harry's flying around the dragon and Fred and George had brought a lot of sweets from the kitchen.

"Don't play innocent," Hermione whispered, "Ever since you and Ron settled your differences, you've been grinning every time he comes around."

"I have not," Bryt whispered back, her face growing hot as she instinctively looked over to where Harry and Ron were talking with Seamus and Neville. Harry was holding his golden egg, but was, thankfully, keeping it closed. He had tried opening it earlier, but the egg let out a horrible wailing noise and Harry closed it soon after.

Bryt knew Hermione was staring at her and turned to see her friend giving her a disapproving look. Bryt suddenly started to feel guilty and she looked away again. After all, Bryt had been there to listen to Hermione with everything involving Julio(and teased her occasionally), plus Bryt had been open about her relationship with Terry throughout the entire thing. Now, Bryt was dealing with a growing attraction to one of her best friends and she was fighting to keep it to herself.

_'Because admittin' to Hermione I might like Ron more than a friend makes it real,'_ Bryt thought. Keeping it to herself meant she could keep denying it.

Still, she couldn't keep it from Hermione. She seemed to have figured out what was going on already. Even if she hadn't, Bryt had never kept something from Hermione before. It felt wrong to start now. Besides, the last year proved that the two girls could keep each others' secrets, starting with Bryt keeping Hermione's secret about the Time Turner and in turn, Hermione was still keeping Bryt's secret about failing to catch Wormtail the summer before.

_'And you can't keep denyin' this forever...'_ Bryt told herself, trying to force down the returning guilt by focusing on the situation at hand.

Bryt sighed, looking up at Hermione, who was still staring at her. Bryt leaned closer, desperate not to be overheard.

"I think...I think I might be..." Bryt started, cutting herself off with another sigh. What was wrong with her? She was the girl who didn't care what people thought of her. She had faced several dangers over the past three years. She had also been fairly open about her relationship with Terry. Why was she finding it so hard to admit her feelings about Ron now?

"I know what you're going to say," Hermione said, grinning, "You should tell _him_, though."

Bryt stared at Hermione in horror. Tell Ron she might, _might_ like him 'more than a friend'? Had Hermione lost her mind?

Bryt glanced across the room again where Ron was. It was one thing to admit her feelings in private to Hermione. It was completely different to go tell Ron. Bryt was sure that there was no way the feeling was mutual with Ron, so there was no way she was going to tell him.

"I think I'm gonna head on to bed," Bryt said, suddenly wanting to get by herself for a while. She stood up and headed up the stairs to her dormitory. After placing the small Hungarian Horntail model on her nightstand, Bryt quickly changed into her pajamas and crawled onto her bed, pulling the curtains around her.

Bryt tried to distract herself by writing about the first task in her diary. It helped for a while, and soon, she had distracted herself completely from Ron for the moment. Once done writing the day's events, Bryt stretched herself across her bed and stared above her. She soon heard footsteps and voices on the stairs and realized the party downstairs was starting to settle down. Bryt rolled over on her side and pulled the blankets up around her, trying to get to sleep herself. After all, despite all that had happened that afternoon, they still had classes the next day.

**xxxxx**

With December came cold winds and harsh sleet. The wind was especially harsh during their next Care of Magical Creatures lesson, and Bryt huddled her thick robes closer around her, glancing towards the Beauxbatons carriage and the Durmstrang ship. She felt sorry for the foreign students, thinking that ship and carriage had to be much more drafty than the Hogwarts castle.

The Slytherins were already by the pumpkin patch when the Gryffindors arrived. Bryt noticed several boxes filled with pillows and blankets were set out near the pin where the ten remaining Blast-Ended Skrewts were.

"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Hagrid said once everyone was there, "Thought we'd jus' try an' see if they fancied a kip...we'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes..." Hagrid motioned to the boxes scattered around him. "We'll jus' lead 'em in here an' put the lids on, and we'll see what happens."

This was a task easier said than done. The skrewts were quite strong and didn't like being nailed into boxes. They had soon blasted their way out and were running loose through Hagrid's pumpkin patch. At this point, the Slytherins barricaded themselves in Hagrid's cabin while the rest of the class tried to catch the loose skrewts.

It took several minutes before they managed to tie up all the skrewts but one, and at the cost of most of the students gaining small injuries—Dean had a cut across his cheek, Lavender's robes were practically ruined, Seamus's fingers were burnt, and Bryt had rope burns on the palms on her hands and fingers, and a long rip along one of her sleeves of her robes.

Still, the class pressed on. Bryt had a rope gripped in her throbbing hands as she tried to approach the last skrewt from behind while it was distracted with Harry and Ron, who were shooting sparks at it while backing up towards Hagrid's cabin.

"Don' frighten him, now!" Hagrid said, "Jus' try an' slip the rope 'round his sting, so he won' hurt any o' the others!"

"Yeah, we shouldn't want that!" Ron called back, his tone a mixture of sarcasm and anger. Bryt glared towards him before turning her attention back to the skrewt as she was close enough to touch it now.

"Well, well, well...this _does_ look like fun."

Bryt jerked the rope a little harder than needed, startled just has she had anchored the rope around the skrewt's stinger. She looked up to see Skeeter was at the edge of Hagrid's garden, leaning on the fence as she watched the class struggling with the skrewt. Bryt glared at the woman, wondering what she was doing down here now. The next task wasn't supposed to happen until February, after all.

"Who're you?" Hagrid asked as he took the rope from Bryt, making sure it was tight enough.

"Rita Skeeter, _Daily Prophet_ reporter," Skeeter said, giving one of her large, fake grins that showed off several gold teeth.

"Thought Dumbledore said you weren' allowed inside the school anymore," Hagrid said with a frown as he pulled the struggling skrewt towards the other nine.

"What are these fascinating creatures called?" Skeeter asked in a way that made Bryt want to knock the woman's gold teeth out of the her mouth.

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hagrid replied.

"Really? I've never heard of them before...where do they come from?"

Bryt looked over at her friends. They all knew Hagrid loved creatures, and didn't always go to obtain them legally. Their best example was Hagrid getting a three-headed dog named Fluffy, and a baby dragon named Norbert. Both in the friends' first years of Hogwarts.

"They're very interesting, aren't they?" Hermione spoke up, "Aren't they, Harry?"

"What?" Harry asked, then yelped as Hermione stomped on his foot, "Oh, yeah...Interesting."

Skeeter turned towards them and her grin grew, causing Bryt's urge to punch the woman to grow. She yanked on her gloves, wincing as the fabric rubbed against her rope burns.

"Ah, you're here, Harry!" Skeeter said, "So you like Care of Magical Creatures, do you? One of your favorite classes?"

"Yes," Harry answered shortly.

"Lovely. Really lovely." Skeeter turned back to Hagrid. "Been teaching long?"

Bryt glared as Skeeter looked around to the students who had helped catch the skrewts and the students still hiding in Hagrid's hut.

_'None of this is gonna turn out well,'_ Bryt thought, ignoring the slight twinge of pain as she gripped her hands into fists.

"This is o'ny my second year," Hagrid said.

"Lovely," Skeeter said again, "I don't suppose you'd like to give me an interview, would you? Share some of your experience of magical creatures? The Prophet does a zoological column every Wednesday, as I'm sure you know. We could feature these—er—Bang-Ended Scoots."

Bryt gave a disbelieving snort, knowing if Skeeter was behind an article, nothing good was going to come out of it.

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hagrid corrected Skeeter, "Er—yeah, why not?"

Bryt had a feeling Skeeter wouldn't ask anything about the skrewts once the interview started. She glanced towards her friends, and it was clear they were thinking the same thing. With Skeeter around, though, there was no way they could warn Hagrid. They could only watch helplessly as Skeeter scheduled an interview for later that week. They didn't get a chance after that, either, as Skeeter stayed until the bell rang for the end of class.

"She'll just twist everything he says," Harry said as they made their way through the freezing wind towards the warmth of the castle.

"Just as long as he didn't import those skrewts illegally or anything," Hermione said.

"I doubt it," Bryt said with a sigh, "I haven't been able to find anythin' in any book on Blast-Ended Skrewts...I have a feelin' Hagrid illegally cross-bred them from a couple of other species."

"Hagrid's been in lots of trouble before," Ron said, "And Dumbledore's never sacked him. Worst that can happen is Hagrid'll have to get rid of the skrewts. Sorry...did I say worst? I mean best."

Harry and Hermione laughed while Bryt rolled her eyes. Still, the friends were in better moods than before as they headed to lunch. A mood that carried through when Harry, Ron, and Bryt separated from Hermione to go to their different afternoon classes. Hermione to Arithmancy, and Harry, Ron, and Bryt to double Divination.

As Harry, Ron, and Bryt sat back at their usual table, Bryt made sure to sit where Harry was between her and Ron. Lately, Bryt started becoming uncomfortably aware of how close Ron would be if the two sat next to each other and could rarely focus on what she was supposed to be doing at the time. She already had enough trouble keeping her mind on-task when it came to Divination. She didn't need any further distractions.

Not that they were concentrating much anyway. The class was still on star charts, and Trelawney was doing her usual predictions of disaster and death, which Harry, Ron, and Bryt were finding more amusing by the moment.

"I would _think_ that _some_ of us," Trelawney paused to look over at Harry, who was fighting hard to keep a straight face, "Might be a little less _frivolous_ had they seen what I have seen during my crystal gazing last night. As I sat here, absorbed in my needlework, the urge to consult the orb overpowered me. I arose, I settled myself before it, and gazed into its crystalline depths...And what do you think I saw gazing back at me?"

"An ugly old bat in outsize specs?" Ron muttered under his breath. Bryt snorted, quickly covering it with a cough.

"_Death_, my dears."

Bryt rolled her eyes as Parvati and Lavender both covered their mouths, looking horrified. It was bad enough with Trelawney's countless wrong predictions of death, but Parvati and Lavender always acted as if it were to be taken seriously.

"Yes," Trelawney said, nodding, "It comes, ever closer, it circles overhead like a vulture, ever lower...ever lower over the castle..."

Harry gave a loud yawn as Trelawney looked at him, and Bryt had to fight back giggles.

"It'd be a bit more impressive if she hadn't done it eighty times before," Harry said when they finally left Divination several minutes late for dinner, "But if I'd dropped dead every time she's told me I'm going to, I'd be a medical miracle."

"You'd be a sort of extra-concentrated ghost," Ron said as the Bloody Baron came floating from the other end of the hall. Bryt tensed and moved quickly to place her friends between her and the Slytherin ghost. Harry and Ron exchanged a smirk, but seemed to think better of saying anything after Bryt glared at them.

"At least Treloony didn't give us homework," Bryt said, thinking about how she and Hermione had planned that whichever of them got out of class first, and didn't have homework, would head down to the kitchen to try and talk with the house elves.

"I hope Hermione got loads from Professor Vector," Ron said with a grin, "I love not working when she is."

Bryt elbowed Ron hard in the side, earning a glare from her friend.

Hermione didn't show up for dinner, though. After eating, Bryt told the boys she'd meet up with them later and, once they were out of sight on the stairs, Bryt turned and headed down the corridor she knew would head towards the Hufflepuff common room and the kitchen. The corridor was much more welcoming than where the Potions classroom was. It was brightly lit, warm, and the walls decorated with large portraits of food.

Bryt was halfway down the passageway when she noticed a portrait open up further down the hallway and Hermione came rushing out.

"Bryt!" she said, rushing over, "You'll never believe who I just found in the kitchen!"

"Who?" Bryt asked, following Hermione as the girl started practically running back towards the entrance hall.

"You'll see after we get Harry and Ron," Hermione said in a rush, "It's absolutely amazing."

Bryt knew better than to try and get anything else out of Hermione and followed behind her friend as the bushy-haired girl ran up one flight of stairs after another. By the time they reached the corridor where the Gryffindor common room was, Bryt's sides were hurting and she was starting to get out of breath.

"Harry!" Hermione called as she and Bryt stumbled to a stop next to Harry and Ron in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, which was hanging open at the moment, "Harry, you've got to come—you've _got_ to come, the most amazing thing's happened—please—"

Hermione grabbed onto Harry's arm, starting back down the corridor. Bryt, half-out of breath, followed behind with Ron.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked

"I'll show you when we get there," Hermione said, "Oh, come on, quick—"

Both Harry and Ron looked over at Bryt, who shrugged, unable to say anything at the moment. It took a few minutes to make their way back down to the entrance hall, and by then, Bryt was breathing hard. It wasn't so much the running, but struggling to keep up with the longer strides of her friends.

_'You'd think I'd be used to this by now,'_ Bryt thought, remembering all the times over the past few years that the friends had been running to or from one thing or another.

"Hermione, where are we going?" Harry asked.

"You'll see, you'll see in a minute!" Hermione replied.

Hermione led them down the food-portrait-lined corridor, not stopping until they reached the large one of a fruit bowl. Bryt bent over, taking slow, deep breaths to try and get rid of the knot in her side.

"Oh hang on..." Harry said slowly, "Wait a minute, you two..."

"What?" Hermione turned towards Harry, looking beside herself with excitement.

"I know what this is about."

Bryt glanced up, finally able to breathe normally, and saw Harry elbow Ron and nod to the portrait behind Hermione.

"Hermione, Bryt!" Ron said, "You're trying to rope us into that spew stuff again!"

"S-P-E-W!" Bryt corrected, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No, no we're not!" Hermione said at the same time.

"I'm not barging into the kitchen and trying to make them stop work," Ron said stubbornly, "I'm not doing it—"

"That's not what we pulled you down here for," Bryt snapped, though she really had no idea why Hermione was so intent on bringing Harry down to the kitchens.

"I came down here, just now, to talk to them all," Hermione continued, "And I found—Oh, come _on_, Harry, I want to show you!"

Hermione reached up, tickling a pear in the picture. It giggled, then suddenly turned into a large door handle. Hermione pulled the door open, then practically shoved Harry into the room. Bryt, Ron, and Hermione followed just as a small creature nearly knocked Harry backwards.

"D-Dobby?" Harry asked, obviously trying to catch his breath.

"It _is_ Dobby, sir, it is!"

Bryt looked down at the squeaky voice and noticed a house elf had latched himself around Harry's waist.

"Dobby has been hoping and hoping to see Harry Potter, sir, and Harry Potter has come to see him, sir!"

The elf let go and Bryt got a good look at him. He looked a lot as Harry had described the house elf. Short, large, bat-like ears, huge green eyes, and a long, thin nose. Unlike most house elves, though, Dobby was wearing normal clothing. But it wasn't a normal outfit as what Bryt remembered seeing Wilsa the worker elf wear. Dobby seemed to be trying to wear every type of clothing he could find: A tea cozy for a hat, decorated with several badges(Bryt noticed Hermione had already given him a SPEW badge), a horseshoe-patterned tie around his chest, soccer shorts, and miss-matched socks.

_'It's like when my little brothers dressed themselves for the first time,' _Bryt thought.

"Dobby, what're you doing here?" Harry asked, staring down at the house elf.

"Dobby has come to work at Hogwarts, sir!" Dobby's voice was full of excitement, "Professor Dumbledore gave Dobby and Winky jobs, sir!"

"Winky?" Harry asked, "She's here too?"

Bryt looked around at the hundreds of house elves, all wearing identical tea towels baring the Hogwarts crest, trying to see if she could recognize Winky among them.

"Yes, sir, yes!" Dobby said, taking Harry by the hand and starting through the kitchen. Bryt, Ron, and Hermione followed along between the long wooden tables that Bryt couldn't help but noticed were positioned in the same way as the House tables were in the Great Hall above them.

"Winky, sir!"

Bryt turned to see the house elf on a stool by a large fireplace. Bryt could easily recognize Winky from the Quidditch World Cup, though she was no longer wearing her old tea towel. Nor was she dressed in a wild mixture of clothes as Dobby was. Instead, she was wearing a cute blue skirt and blouse with a matching hat that had holes for her ears. Also unlike Dobby's clothes, which were clean and neatly kept, Winky's outfit was covered in stains and had a few burn holes on it.

"Hello Winky," Harry said.

Winky stared at them, then suddenly covered her face as she began crying. Bryt and Hermione both squatted down next to her.

"Winky, don't cry, please don't..." Hermione started, but it only seemed to make things worse.

"Would Harry Potter like a cup of tea?" Dobby asked, raising his voice to be heard over Winky.

"Er—yeah, okay."

A half-dozen house elves rushed forward with a tray holding a tea pot, cups, and tea cakes(that Bryt still refused to call 'biscuits', too used to what she knew to be biscuits growing up).

"Good service!" Ron said and Bryt glared, slapping away the tea cake he had just picked up. Ron glared back at her.

"How long have you been here, Dobby?" Harry asked, pouring cups of tea(Bryt and Hermione both refused to take a cup).

"Only a week, Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby said, looking ecstatic, "Dobby came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir. You see, sir, it is very difficult for a house elf who has been dismissed to get a new position, sir, very difficult indeed—" Dobby suddenly had to raise his voice as Winky began crying louder. "Dobby has traveled the country for two whole years, sir, trying to find work! But Dobby hasn't found work, sir, because Dobby wants paying now!"

"Good, you should!" Bryt replied and Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, misses!" Dobby said, grinning brightly, "But most wizards doesn't want a house elf who wants paying, misses. 'That's not the point of a house elf,' they says, and they slammed the door in Dobby's face! Dobby likes work, but he wants to wear clothes and he wants to be paid, Harry Potter...Dobby likes being free!"

Bryt grinned at the elf. It was good to see freedom was treating him well. After all Harry had told her about Dobby's enslavement to the Malfoys, the house elf deserved to be happy.

"And then, Harry Potter, Dobby goes to visit Winky, and finds out Winky has been freed too, sir!"

Winky suddenly flung herself across the floor, banging her fits against the stone as she cried even louder. Bryt and Hermione both tried to comfort her, but it didn't seem to help at all.

"And then Dobby had an idea, Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby raised his voice to where he was practically screaming to be heard over Winky, "'Why doesn't Dobby and Winky find work together?' Dobby says. 'Where is there enough work for two house elves?' says Winky. And Dobby thinks, and it comes to him, sir! _Hogwarts_! So Dobby and Winky came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir, and Professor Dumbledore took us on! And Professor Dumbledore says he will pay Dobby, sir, if Dobby wants paying! And so Dobby is a free elf, sir, and Dobby gets a Galleon a week and one day off a month!"

"That's not very much!" Hermione shouted over Winky's cries.

"Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Galleons a week, and weekends off," Dobby said, shuddering, "But Dobby beat him down, miss...Dobby likes freedom, miss, but he isn't wanting too much, miss, he likes work better."

"How much are you gettin' paid?" Bryt asked Winky.

Winky suddenly stopped crying, sitting up and glaring at Bryt.

"Winky is a disgraced elf," she snapped, "But Winky is not yet getting paid! Winky is not sunk so low as that! Winky is properly ashamed of being freed!"

"You shouldn't be ashamed of that!" Bryt said, staring at the house elf, "You should want freedom!"

"It's Mr. Crouch who should be ashamed, not you!" Hermione added, "You didn't do anything wrong, he was really horrible to you!"

Winky didn't seem to want to hear as she flattened her ears with her hands.

"You is not insulting my master, miss! You is not insulting Mr. Crouch! Mr. Crouch is a good wizard, miss! Mr. Crouch is right to sack bad Winky!"

"You aren't bad!" Bryt said, wondering why any house elf in Winky's position would consider themselves to have done something wrong.

"Winky is having trouble adjusting, Harry Potter," Dobby spoke up, "Winky forgets she is not bound to Mr. Crouch anymore; she is allowed to speak her mind now, but she won't do it."

"Can't house elves speak their minds about their masters, then?" Harry asked.

"Oh, no, sir, no. 'Tis part of the house elf's enslavement, sir. We keeps their secrets and our silence, sir. We upholds the family's honor, and we never speaks ill of them—though Professor Dumbledore told Dobby he does not insist upon this. Professor Dumbledore says we is free to—to—" Dobby looked around nervously and leaned closer, continuing at a whisper. "He said we is free to call him a—a barmy old codger if we likes, sir!"

Dobby broke into nervous giggles and Bryt couldn't help but grin.

"But Dobby is not wanting to, Harry Potter. Dobby likes Professor Dumbledore very much, sir, and is proud to keep his secrets and our silence for him."

"But you can say what you like about the Malfoys now?" Harry asked, grinning at the house elf.

Dobby stared at Harry with wide, fearful eyes.

"Dobby—Dobby could," he said slowly, then straightened himself up, "Dobby could tell Harry Potter that his old masters were—were—_bad Dark wizards_!"

Dobby looked horrified, then suddenly ran to the nearest table and started banging his head against it. Bryt jumped up, starting over, but Harry reached the house elf first, pulling Dobby away from the table.

"Thank you, Harry Potter, thank you," Dobby said weakly, rubbing the sore spot on his head.

"You just need a bit of practice."

"Practice!" Winky shrieked, sounding even angrier than before, "You is ought to be ashamed of yourself, Dobby, talking that way about your masters!"

"They isn't my masters anymore, Winky! Dobby doesn't care what they think anymore!"

"Oh, you is a bad elf, Dobby! My poor Mr. Crouch, what is he doing without Winky? He is needing me, he is needing my help! I is looking after the Crouches all my life, and my mother is doing it before me, and my grandmother is doing it before her...Oh, what is they saying if they knew Winky was freed? Oh the shame, the shame!"

"I think Mr. Crouch is doin' fine, Winky," Bryt said, trying to cheer Winky up, "We've seen him—"

"You is seeing my master?" Winky half-hid her face with the end of her skirt as she stared over the edge of it at Bryt, "You is seeing him here at Hogwarts?"

Bryt nodded.

"He and Mr. Bagman are judges in the Triwizard Tournament," Hermione added.

"Mr. Bagman comes too?" Winky asked, suddenly looking furious, which took Bryt by surprise, "Mr. Bagman is a bad wizard! A very bad wizard! My master isn't liking him, oh no, not at all!"

"Bagman—bad?" Harry asked, obviously as surprised as Bryt.

"Oh yes," Winky said, nodding so quickly her ears flopped up and down, "My master is telling Winky some things! But Winky is not saying...Winky—Winky keeps her master's secrets..."

Winky began sobbing again, and there was no getting anything else out of her. Bryt, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Dobby moved away so they could talk without having to shout over Winky's cries. Bryt couldn't help but feel sorry for Winky. It was obvious the house elf was miserable.

_'But she has Dobby lookin' after her,'_ Bryt thought, _'Winky'll see how well off Dobby is and know she's better off herself soon enough.'_

"Dobby is going to buy a sweater next, Harry Potter!" Dobby said, pulling Bryt from her thoughts and she looked up to see Dobby pointing at his bare chest.

"Tell you what, Dobby," Ron said, grinning, "I'll give you the one my mum knits me this Christmas, I always get one from her. You don't mind maroon, do you? We might have to shrink it a bit to fit you, but it will go well with your tea cozy."

Dobby seemed beside himself with delight and Bryt giggled. Ron could sometimes show he's not completely self-absorbed. Even if it was by giving a house elf a sweater he never liked in the first place. Soon, the quartet had to leave, and as they started towards the door, they were crowded by house elves offering them sweets to take with them. Bryt and Hermione both refused, Bryt glaring at Harry and Ron as they overstuffed their pockets.

"Thanks a lot!" Harry said('At least he has the decency to thank them,' Bryt thought), then waved towards Dobby, "See you, Dobby!"

"Harry Potter...Can Dobby come and see you sometimes, sir?" Dobby asked.

"'Course you can," Harry called back as they left the kitchen and shut the portrait over the door again.

"You know what?" Ron said once they were in the entrance hall, "All these years I've been really impressed with Fred and George, nicking food from the kitchens—well, it's not exactly difficult, is it? They can't wait to give it away!"

"'Cause they don't know any better," Bryt snapped, slapping a cream cake from Ron's hand in annoyance. Ron just glared at her and pulled out another.

"I think this is the best thing that could have happened to those elves, you know," Hermione said, and Bryt stared at her in surprise until her friend continued, "Dobby coming to work here, I mean. The other elves will see how happy he is, being free, and slowly it'll dawn on them that they want that, too!"

"Let's hope they don't look too closely at Winky," Harry said.

"I'm sure she'll be fine eventually," Bryt said confidently, "She has Dobby lookin' out for her, after all."

"Bryt, have you forgotten how Dobby's 'looking out' for me turned out our second year?" Harry asked.

"Well, he was still bound to the Malfoys then," Bryt pointed out, though she could easily remember all the trouble and injures Harry received from Dobby trying to 'help' him, "He's free now. He'll help Winky realize she's better off without Mr. Crouch."

"She does seem to love him," Ron said through a mouthful of cream cake. Bryt glared over at him, wishing he wouldn't talk with his mouth full so much.

"Doesn't think much of Bagman, though, does she?" Harry asked, "Wonder what Crouch says at home about him?"

"Probably that he's not a very good Head of Department," Hermione said, "And let's face it...He's got a point, hasn't he?"

"I'd still rather work for him than old Crouch," Ron replied, "At least Bagman's got a sense of humor."

"Don't let Percy hear you saying that."

"Yeah, well, Percy wouldn't want to work for anyone with a sense of humor, would he? Percy wouldn't recognize a joke if it started dancing naked in front of him wearing Dobby's tea cozy."

Bryt started giggling as they headed on up to the Gryffindor common room, suddenly finding herself unable to stay mad at Ron's insensitive attitude towards the house elves.


	25. Unexpected Plans

"Potter! Weasley! Miss Watkins! _Will you pay attention?_"

Bryt jumped and spun around in her chair towards the front of the class. She had been sitting backwards in her chair, balancing it on its back two legs so its back was resting against Harry and Ron's desk. Harry and Ron had been having a sword fight with fake wands(Harry's turning into a rubber haddock and Ron's a tin parrot) and Bryt had been cheering them on. She had lost her own fake wand some time ago or else she would have joined into the fight.

McGonagall had a stern look on her face and Bryt sighed, trying to ignore the disapproving look Hermione had next to her.

"Now that these three have been kind enough to act their age," McGonagall said shortly, "I have something to say to you all.

"The Yule Ball is approaching—a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open to fourth years and above—although you may invite a younger student if you wish—"

_'Now we know what we need the dress robes for,'_ Bryt thought, glaring over at Lavender as the girl began giggling loudly. Parvati nudged Lavender, and both glanced towards Harry. Bryt rolled her eyes, finding it unfair that McGonagall ignored the girls when she had told off Harry, Ron, and Bryt moments before.

"Dress robes will be worn," McGonagall said, confirming Bryt's thoughts, "And the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then..." McGonagall paused to cast another stern look around at her students. "The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to—er—let our hair down."

Lavender giggled again and Bryt rolled her eyes. She sometimes got overly annoyed at how Lavender and Parvati acted.

"But that does _not_ mean," McGonagall continued and Bryt looked back at her, "That we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expected from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."

The bell rang and Bryt got up, slinging her school bag over her shoulder.

"Potter—a word, if you please," McGonagall said.

Bryt, Hermione, and Ron all looked over at Harry, who glanced down at the headless haddock in his hand.

"We'll wait," Bryt said, heading out of the classroom with the rest of the Gryffindors.

"Do you think this is about the fake wand fight?" Ron asked once they were alone outside the Transfiguration classroom.

"When will you three ever grow up?" Hermione asked with a sigh. Bryt chose to ignore the comment.

"If it was about that, we'd be in there, too," Bryt pointed out, looking back at Ron, "It has to be about somethin' else."

A minute later, Harry came out, looking almost sick.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Hermione asked as they started towards the Great Hall for lunch.

"The Champions apparently open the Yule Ball," Harry said weakly, "They have to dance...With, er...their partners."

Ron started laughing and Bryt and Hermione glared at him. Sometimes he could be far too insensitive.

"You have to dance in front of the entire school?" Ron asked and Harry nodded, swallowing hard.

"Don't worry too much about it," Bryt said gently, patting Harry on the back, "And if you don't manage to find a date, Hermione or I can go with you. Y'know, as a friend."

Harry and Ron both stared at the girls and Bryt grinned.

"I don't plan on goin' with anyone," she said, though in the back of her mind, she was already trying to decide if she should get the courage to ask Ron, "And I doubt Hermione'd take anyone as a date."

"I'm not about to betray Julio," Hermione said simply.

"I thought you said your mum wanted you home for Christmas this year," Ron said to Bryt, who shrugged.

"Yule Ball's once in a life time," she said, "I think this'll count as a good excuse this year. Next year, however, I'll most likely have to come home no matter what party or dance is bein' thrown."

**xxxxx**

"I don't know why everyone is making such a big deal out of the Yule Ball," Ginny said one afternoon when she and Bryt were sitting together in the common room, Bryt helping Ginny out with a Potions assignment.

"Trust me, I don't get it either," Bryt said with a sigh. The very night after the Yule Ball was announced, Lavender and Parvati spent hours talking about their dress robes and who they'd like to ask them to the Yule Ball. They had tried to get Bryt and Hermione to join into the conversation. After Bryt replied that she didn't care who went with who and didn't see the big deal about showing off dress robes that would most likely only be worn once, however, the two girls seemed annoyed and didn't try invite Bryt and Hermione into their conversations again.

"At least you'll actually get to _go_," Ginny said, sounding annoyed. Bryt glanced over at her.

"Someone could ask you," she said. Ginny shrugged in response as Hermione sat down at their small table.

"You okay, 'mione?" Bryt asked, noticing the odd look on her friend's face.

"I just got asked to the Yule Ball by the most unexpected person," Hermione answered.

"Who?" Bryt and Ginny asked together.

Hermione glanced around, then leaned forward.

"Viktor Krum."

"Seriously?" Bryt asked, dumbfounded, "_Viktor Krum?_" _The_ Viktor Krum? Quidditch star and Durmstrang champion? He had actually asked Hermione to the Yule Ball? Bryt couldn't remember ever seeing the two talk. In fact, the only time Bryt ever knew them to be in the same room were when they were on opposite sides of the library, and Hermione constantly complaining about him and his fan club.

"What did you say?" Ginny asked.

"No, of course," Hermione replied, looking at Ginny as if it were obvious, "I told him that I have a boyfriend already and I wasn't planning on going with anyone to the Yule Ball."

"Of course," Bryt said, "I don't have a boyfriend, but I still don't plan on goin' with anyone, either."

"Er...G-Ginny?"

All three girls looked up to see Neville standing at the table. Bryt blinked, wondering how long he had been standing there and how much of their conversation he had overheard.

"Yes, Neville?" Ginny asked.

"Can...Can I talk to you a moment?" Neville asked nervously, glancing between Bryt and Hermione, his face turning red.

"Sure," Ginny said, putting down her quill and standing up, walking off with Neville towards the other side of the common room.

"You don't have to keep that promise to Harry, Bryt," Hermione said once Ginny and Neville were gone.

"What?" Bryt asked, looking back at her friend.

"You can always ask someone to the Yule Ball, you know," Hermione said with a knowing look, "Like Ron, maybe."

Bryt felt the heat rushing to her face. Over the past couple of days, Bryt had been thinking a lot about the very thing. She liked the idea of her and Ron going together to the Yule Ball, and as an actual date instead of just friends. She also had a feeling Ron would never be on the same mindset, so she wasn't about to ask Ron and make their friendship go south.

Before she could say any of this to Hermione, Ginny had come back, sitting down next to Bryt again.

"I'll be going to the Yule Ball after all," Ginny said, though she didn't seem too thrilled about the idea.

"Neville asked you?" Hermione asked.

Ginny nodded. "I figured I won't be going any other way," she said, "So I told him yes."

"Well, think of it this way, Ginny," Bryt said, noticing the girl still seemed a bit down, "You got a date before Ron did."

Ginny grinned at that, seeming to cheer up some. Bryt had a feeling that Ginny was down because of the crush she had on her mystery boy. Ginny most likely had been hoping that boy would ask her. Bryt knew the feeling. It was the same with her and Ron.

_'I really should just suck it up and ask him myself,'_ Bryt thought, _'What harm could it do?'_

Well, it could completely ruin their friendship for starters. If Ron didn't share Bryt's feelings, and Bryt let him know, there would always be that awkwardness between them. Something that could never be ignored.

_'I'll just say we can go as friends,'_ Bryt told herself, _'I won't say it's a date.'_

With that thought, Bryt made up her mind. If Ron didn't get a date for the Yule Ball, Bryt would agree to go with him as a friend. Bryt couldn't help but feel a little guilty as she found herself hoping that Ron wouldn't be able to get anyone to go with him.

Deciding to distract herself from the thoughts, Bryt turned back to helping Ginny with her homework and making sure their conversation with Hermione didn't steer back to the Yule Ball again. Thankfully, both of them seemed just as unwilling to talk on the Yule Ball as Bryt was.

**xxxxx**

Bryt and Hermione spent more time with Ginny over the next week as Harry and Ron stayed on their own, but always came back that afternoon still without dates to the Yule Ball. Bryt found herself always being quick to ask when they arrived, and felt both guilty and happy when Ron would grumpily reply that he didn't have any success.

Though Bryt was becoming increasingly annoyed with the constant talk of the Yule Ball, she was enjoying how some of their teachers were letting up on the classwork, mostly letting students play games and talk among themselves instead of doing work. Other teachers(such as McGonagall, Moody, and Snape) were acting as if the Yule Ball wasn't coming up and treated classes as they had always been. Snape had even announced that he was going to give them a test on antidotes on their class of the term.

"Evil, he is," Ron hissed the afternoon after Snape announced the test, "Springing a test on us on the last day. Ruining the last bit of term with a whole load of studying."

"Though you're not exactly gettin' to that," Bryt said as she looked up from their Potions notes. Ron was across from Bryt, building a card house with Exploding Snap cards(that Bryt had 'accidentally' knocked down twice to annoy him) while Harry was stretched across the nearby couch, reading _Flying with the Cannons_.

"It's Christmas, Bryt," Harry said, not even looking up from his book.

Hermione looked up from her own notes, glaring at Harry.

"I'd have thought you'd be doing something constructive, Harry, even if you don't want to learn your antidotes!"

"Like what?"

"That egg!"

"Come on, Hermione, I've got till February twenty-fourth."

"But it might take weeks to work it out!" Hermione said, annoyed at how Harry seemed not to care about the second task approaching, "You're going to look like a real idiot if everyone else knows what the next task is and you don't!"

"Leave him alone, Hermione, he's earned a bit of a break," Ron said. He was just placing the last two cards on his house when the cards finally blew, singeing his eyebrows. Bryt started giggling, gaining a glare from Ron.

"Nice look, Ron...Go well with your dress robes, that will."

Bryt looked up to see Fred and George had come over and sat down with them.

"Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?" George asked.

"No, he's off delivering a letter," Ron replied, referring to how the small owl was still off from when the four had sent off a detailed letter to Sirius after the first task, "Why?"

"Because George wants to invite him to the ball," Fred replied sarcastically.

"Because _we_ want to send a letter, you stupid great prat," George added.

"You can borrow Joey," Bryt said, "I'm not expectin' to send any letters anytime soon."

Bryt had gotten a letter from her parents that morning, her mother expressing her strong dislike of letting Bryt stay at Hogwarts to attend a dance, after missing the past two family Christmases. Bryt knew she was going to have to do something big to make it up to her mother this time.

"Thank you, Bryt," George said with a grin.

"So..." Fred said, "You lot got dates for the ball yet?"

"Nope," Ron answered. Again, Bryt had the mixed feeling of joy and guilt.

"Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone."

"Who're you going with, then?"

"Angelina," Fred said simply.

"What?" Ron asked, obviously surprised, "You've already asked her?"

"Good point," Fred said, turning and looking around the common room until he spotted Angelina talking with Alicia, "Oi! Angelina!"

"What?" she called back once she spotted Fred.

"Want to come to the ball with me?"

Angelina stared at Fred for a second, then nodded.

"All right, then," she said, turning back to Alicia with a smile. Bryt shook her head. It took a special type of person to ask someone on a date by yelling across a crowded room at them.

"There you go," Fred said, turning back to the group, "Piece of cake."

"Thanks again for letting us borrow Joey, Bryt," George said, standing up. He and Fred headed off with that.

"We should get a move on, you know...ask someone," Ron said, looking at Harry, "He's right."

"At least you know you have us if you don't get dates," Bryt said, keeping her head down to try and hide the blush she could already feel heating her cheeks.

"Yeah, we do," Ron said and the tone made Bryt look up to see Ron was staring intently at her with an odd expression.

"What?" Bryt asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Nothing," Ron said quickly, going to clean up his Exploding Snap cards and Hermione gave an annoyed sigh next to Bryt. Bryt glanced over at her, but Hermione only shook her head and went back to her notes.

Bryt turned her attention back to Ron, watching him pack away the cards. The way he had been staring at her...Maybe Bryt should just ask Ron right now for them to go together. Bryt started to open her mouth to do just that, but cut herself off before she could.

_'If Ron really wanted to go to the Yule Ball with me, he would have asked me already,'_ Bryt thought, looking down at her Potions notes and trying hard to keep her thoughts away from going to the ball with the red-haired boy across from her.

**xxxxx**

As the end of the term grew closer, the staff seemed determined to make sure the castle was even cleaner than before, with the Christmas decorations more impressive than Bryt remembered from the past two years. Icicles that were enchanted to never melt were hung on the staircase at the entrance hall and the dozen Christmas trees were decorated much more lively than usual as well. Even the suit of armors were enchanted to sing carols, though they seemed to know only half the words and Peeves had taken it on himself to fill in the blanks with very rude versions.

With moods so high, Bryt was very relieved when their last class of the term, Potions, finally came to an end. She was sure she did well on the test on antidotes, as Bryt was always quite good with potions, so her mood was especially great as they started up the stairs for dinner.

Harry had taken off right after the class, saying he'd meet them at dinner, and when Bryt and Hermione sat down, they both realized Ron was no longer with them as well.

"I wonder where he went..." Bryt said, looking around the crowded Great Hall. Over the past few months, the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students had started to spread out, so now there was the occasional blue or red robe scattered throughout the sea of black instead of the huge group from Halloween.

"Maybe he forgot something in the classroom," Hermione said, "I'm sure he'll show up soon."

But neither Harry nor Ron had shown up by the time Bryt and Hermione were done eating. The girls found their friends in the common room, sitting with Ginny, and all three seeming in bad moods.

"You okay?" Bryt asked as she and Hermione sat down with them, "Why weren't you at dinner?"

"They've both just been turned down by the girls they asked to the ball," Ginny answered for them.

An odd feeling rushed through Bryt at the thought of Ron asking another girl to the Yule Ball. She glanced across the room with a glare, wondering if one of them had been the one. Then, Bryt remembered Ron's crush on the Beauxbatons Champion.

_'He hides every time Delacour comes around, though,'_ Bryt thought, _'He wouldn't be stupid enough to ask her to the ball.'_

"I think we should just go with your offer, Bryt," Harry said with a sigh, "Ron and I aren't about to get dates anytime soon."

"What offer?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Hermione and I said that if Ron and Harry didn't get dates, we'd go with them as friends," Bryt explained, "Since Hermione is datin' Julio, so wouldn't go with anyone anyway, and there ain't anyone I'm interested in goin' with."

_'Besides Ron,' _Bryt added silently, her mood lifting. This would be her chance to go with Ron and have him think it was simply as a friendly gesture.

"Besides, Harry has to have a date since he's a champion," Hermione added.

"So you two can come with us," Ron said simply, looking between Bryt and Hermione. Bryt grinned, adjusting the headband around her hair. This was her chance. Only four simple words and she'd have her date set with Ron, even if it was just going as friends.

Then Bryt thought of the mystery girl that Ron had asked to the Yule Ball...

"I'll go with Harry," the words were out of Bryt's mouth quicker than she could really consider them.

Bryt took a deep breath as she felt everyone at the table staring at her with looks mixed between confusion and surprise. Bryt was going to have to think up an excuse fast. Good thing Bryt had grown used to this the year before when explaining away Hermione's sudden disappearances when using the time turner.

"Think about it," Bryt said, "Most of the school already thinks Harry and I are datin', so it won't be any big deal. If I go with Ron, and Hermione with Harry, it might start up new stuff, and that Skeeter woman might find out, and start a new article on how one, or both, of us are some type of cheatin' scum."

Bryt took a deep breath, realizing she had rushed her explanation out without a single breath. She noticed that Ginny was staring intently at something on the table, and Ron was looking oddly disappointed, but before Bryt could say anything more, Harry spoke up.

"You do remember we have to dance together in front of the entire school, right?"

Bryt turned back to Harry, grinning a little as she shrugged.

"Yes, but how bad can it be?"


	26. The Approaching Night

Bryt made sure that she woke up early the next day to see her younger brothers off. She noticed the crowd leaving Hogwarts for the holidays was much smaller than usual, as only first and second years(and the third years who didn't get dates to the Yule Ball) were leaving. As Bryt sat on the stairway while Mike and Natalie talked, Bryt noticed a few other older students were around, too. Though it seemed that they, like Bryt, were there to see off younger siblings.

"Morning, Bryt."

Bryt looked up and grinned to see Drew coming up, trailed by Kevin and Owen, both of whom gave Bryt cautious looks. It seemed the two boys were still a bit fearful of Bryt.

"Hey, Drew," Bryt said, hugging her brother and beckoning Mike over, "You two ready to head off?"

"Yep," both boys replied.

"It's a shame you're not coming home this year," Drew continued.

"Yeah, this will be the third time you miss Christmas at home," Mike added.

"I'll come home next Christmas," Bryt said, "Tell Mom and Dad I miss them, okay?"

"We will," Mike and Drew said together.

"I'll tell you two all about the Yule Ball when you're back," Bryt said, giving both of her brothers a kiss on the cheek, "Merry Christmas you two."

Drew made a face while Mike quickly wiped his cheek as Natalie giggled over towards the side. Bryt laughed, ruffling up each of her brothers' hair.

"I'll see you when you're back," she said, "You better head off. You don't want to miss the train."

"Have fun at the ball, Bryt," Drew said.

"Sure will," Bryt replied, giving her brothers one last goodbye before watching them head off with their friends.

Once they were out of sight, Bryt turned and started up the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room. Truthfully, Bryt would have rather gone home than go to the Yule Ball. She didn't see the appeal of dressing up in an outfit she'd rather set on fire, all for the chance to dance around to music. Bryt could dance to music any time she wanted in her own bedroom. And she didn't have to dress up to do it, either. The only reason she had been willing to stay was that she hoped it would give her a chance to push forward her relationship with Ron.

_'And the idea of dancing with Ron doesn't sound that bad,'_ Bryt thought, feeling a bit of heat creep into her cheeks at the thought of her and Ron dancing close together in dim lighting.

It was obvious, however, that Ron didn't share Bryt's thoughts, considering he had asked some other girl to the Yule Ball. Now, Bryt was only planning to suffer through the dance because she had promised Harry she'd go with him so he'd have a partner for the four champions opening the ball with a dance.

_'The things I do for my friends,'_ Bryt thought as she reached the common room. She headed inside and noticed Hermione sitting in a corner, obviously already working on the homework they had been given over the holidays.

"You do know we have the entire holidays to do this work, right?" Bryt asked as she sat down with her friend.

Hermione chose not to reply to that comment as she dipped her quill into her ink bottle.

"Mike and Drew head off okay?" she asked instead.

"Yeah, they're on their way to the train," Bryt replied, "They don't like that I'm missing Christmas at home again, but neither is my mom. At least they understand the Yule Ball is a rare thing."

"Speaking of that," Hermione said, looking at Bryt, "Why did you choose Harry? You had told me you were planning to go with Ron if they didn't get dates."

Bryt sighed. She had avoided talking with Hermione the night before, and she knew this conversation was going to come up. She also knew Hermione wasn't going to accept the reason Bryt gave them. Hermione was not a girl Bryt could lie to.

"I didn't see the point," Bryt said, "Ron asked someone else to the Yule Ball, didn't he? That proves he doesn't want to go with me."

"That doesn't prove anything," Hermione said, looking up at Bryt, "Maybe he just couldn't get up the nerve. I mean, look at Harry. It took him until yesterday to get up the nerve to ask Cho Chang to the ball."

"That's different. Harry doesn't really know Cho. After all, she's a year above us and I don't remember Harry actually ever talkin' with her before. Harry didn't know how Cho would react. I know Ron doesn't share my thoughts, so there's no point in tryin', and no reason he'd be nervous about anythin' with me."

"You should just talk to him," Hermione said.

"Talk to who?"

Both girls looked up to see Harry and Ron had come down, Harry sitting in an armchair while Ron took the place next to Bryt on the couch.

_'Does he _have_ to sit so close?'_ Bryt thought, fighting the urge to scoot away from him as a familiar feeling ran through her—one Bryt used to get often when she was around Terry, before their break-up.

"We're talkin' about my dad," Bryt said before Hermione could speak up, "Mom's really upset I'm stayin' here for Christmas again, so Hermione was suggestin' I try to talk my dad into tryin' to smooth things over with Mom."

"You should just buy her a present," Ron said, leaning back on the couch. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I was thinkin' about doin' that, actually," Bryt said, "On the next Hogsmeade trip. Maybe getting' her a scarf or somethin', or maybe some perfume."

"Giving your mother a gift doesn't change the fact that she wants her family together for Christmas," Hermione said, and Bryt was thankful for the fact Hermione wasn't outing Bryt's lie.

"I know," Bryt said with a sigh, "I've already promised I'll be home for Christmas next year, no matter what."

"Yet in September, you said the exact same thing about this Christmas," Harry pointed out, "You never know. Something might happen and you might stay next year, too."

Bryt gave a short laugh.

"Someone's gonna have to be dyin' for that to happen," she said.

**xxxxx**

Despite Bryt's gloomy feeling about her dislike of the upcoming Yule Ball and missing Christmas at home for a third year, Bryt was enjoying the holidays at Hogwarts. The common room was much noisier than usual, and seemed much more crowded with everyone enjoying themselves instead of concentrating on work.

Bryt was becoming more and more grateful for the warm fires in the castle every time she looked out a window and saw the Beauxbatons carriage and Durmstrang ship. The meals were becoming much warmer and more feeling as well, and every student seemed to be enjoying them except the Beauxbatons champion.

"It is too 'eavy, all zis 'Ogwarts food," Delacour complained to one of her friends as they left the Great Hall(Bryt rolled her eyes over both the statement and how Ron suddenly hid behind Harry), "I will not fit into my dress robes!"

"And we wouldn't want that," Bryt muttered sarcastically, glaring at the tall blonde in front of her.

As they walked into the entrance hall, Hermione suddenly pointed above the decorated banisters. "Look! Pigwidgeon's back!"

Bryt looked up to see the small owl flying in circles as a group of third year girls cooed over him.

"Stupid little feathery git!" Ron hurried up the stairway, grabbing Pigwidgeon tightly in his hands, "You bring letters to the addressee! You don't hang around showing off!"

Harry, Bryt, and Hermione caught up to Ron as the third years looked horrified.

"Clear off!" Ron snapped at them, waving his fist that was clutching the tiny owl. Pigwidgeon hooted happily, though the third years looked even more horrified as they hurried off up the stairs. Ron finally got the letter from Pigwidgeon, letting the owl fly off again. He handed the letter to Harry and the four headed on up to the crowded Gryffindor common room, then over towards one of the windows, grouped together to read the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_Congratulations on getting past the Horntail. Whoever put your name in that goblet shouldn't be feeling too happy right now! I was going to suggest the Conjunctivitus Curse, as a dragon's eyes are its weakest point, but your way was better, I'm impressed._

_Don't get complacent, though, Harry. You've only done one task; whoever put you in for the tournament's got plenty more opportunity if they're trying to hurt you. Keep your eyes open—particularly when the person we discussed is around—and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble._

_Keep in trough, I still want to hear about anything unusual._

_Sirius_

"He sounds exactly like Moody," Harry whispered when all four of them had finished reading and he tucked the letter back into his robes pocket, "'Constant vigilance!' You'd think I walk around with my eyes shut, banging off the walls..."

"There's a sight," Bryt said with a giggle.

"But he's right, Harry," Hermione whispered, "You _have_ still got two tasks to do. You really ought to have a look at that egg, you know, and start working out what it means..."

"Hermione, he's got ages!" Ron cut in, "Want a game of chess, Harry?"

"Yeah, okay," Harry replied, then continued when Hermione glared at him, "Come on, how'm I supposed to concentrate with all this noise going on? I won't even be able to hear the egg over this lot."

"Oh, I suppose not," Hermione replied with a sigh as the four sat down. Harry and Ron started their chess match while Hermione went back to work on homework and Bryt decided to work on one of her photo albums.

**xxxxx**

Bryt woke up on Christmas morning to the sun shining on her face through a gap in her bed's curtains. She sat up with a yawn, pulling the curtains on open to see Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati were just waking up as well.

All four girls were eager to get to their presents. Bryt's package from home included a new pair of gloves with a matching hat and scarf and a box of butterscotch candy sticks from her parents and brothers, and the usual unwanted jewelry from her grandparents. Parvati and Lavender seemed interested in the bracelets, though, so Bryt happily let the two girls take them.

Bryt tried to ignore the two girls as they also had to fawn over the book-shaped locket Hermione got from Julio, and show obvious envy for Hermione's over-seas boyfriend. Bryt would never understand Parvati and Lavender, and she didn't want to bother trying. Instead, Bryt focused on the rest of her gifts.

She received another scented candle(pumpkin pie) and a homework planner from Hermione. Hagrid had sent her a box filled with her favorite Honeydukes sweets(Chocolate frogs, liquorice wands, and cauldron cakes), and Harry gave Bryt a book on the history of the Fitchburg Finches, the Quidditch team Bryt supported and one of the few that came from the United States. Bryt got a box of chocolate frogs from Ron(which Bryt added to her ones from Hagrid) and the Garcías sent Bryt a broom-care kit to go with the Nimbus Seventeen-Hundred they gave her the year before.

Once done with gifts, Bryt and Hermione got dressed and met up with Harry and Ron in the common room before heading down to breakfast. As was her little tradition, Bryt gave both boys a quick kiss on the cheek, though she spared them embarrassment and waited until they were out of the crowded common room.

Bryt tried to push the thought of what she had to do that night by enjoying the day with her friends and the snowball fight with Harry and the Weasleys that afternoon. Hermione sat to the side and watched despite Bryt's best efforts to try and pull her into the fun. At seven, however, it became too dark and too close to time for the Yule Ball, so everyone headed back up towards the Gryffindor Common room. When Hermione and Bryt went into their dormitory, Lavender and Parvati were already there with their backs to the door, Lavender braiding a long gold ribbon into Parvati's hair.

Bryt and Hermione gave their roommates a quick hello before changing into their own dress robes. Halfway through, Bryt decided to leave her pants on under the dress robes. She just felt more comfortable wearing them and made it easier when she looked in the mirror and thought of how ridiculous she looked in the dark blue dress robes.

Bryt had flat-out refused the option of wearing any type of uncomfortable dress shoes or heels, so she grabbed her usual orange sneakers and started to pull them on.

"_Bryt!_"

Bryt snapped her head up at Lavender's shriek, looking over towards the girl.

"What?" she asked.

"Are you _mental_?" Lavender asked, pointing at Bryt's dirty sneakers and looking as if they were the most disgusting thing she had ever seen in her life, "_Trainers?_ With your _d__ress robes_?"

"My shoes are comfortable," Bryt said as she got up, grabbing her comb to flatten down her short hair the best she could, "Besides, the dress robes cover them, so no one's really gonna see them."

"But you're going with Harry Potter!" Lavender said, "You'll be dancing in front of the entire school! They'll all see those ridiculous shoes!"

"Then they'll just have to deal with it," Bryt said, rolling her eyes, grabbing her headband and tying it around her hair, "I ain't changin'." Bryt looked over at Hermione, who was standing there in her purple dress robes, an odd look on her face as she looked between Lavender and Bryt. "I'll meet you downstairs when you're done."

Bryt grabbed her camera off her nightstand and headed from the room before Lavender could protest more about Bryt's choice of shoes. Bryt rolled her eyes again just thinking about it. She would never understand how Lavender thought. Who cared what shoes she wore? They could wear whatever they wanted, and Bryt was content with wearing her sneakers.

Bryt stumbled down the last few steps, her foot catching on the end of her dress robes. She managed to catch herself before she hit the ground, though she attracted a few stares from people nearby. Bryt cursed under her breath as she tugged at the end of her cuffs, glaring down at the outfit she was wearing.

_'I'm gonna end up killin' myself before the night's over,'_ she thought, pulling up at the end of the dress robes as she moved away from the staircase to wait on her friends.

Hermione came down soon after, obviously moving much easier in her dress robes than Bryt was and her locket Julio gave her still hanging around her neck. Hermione started blushing when Bryt offered to get a picture of her for Julio, but agreed readily.

Bryt was just finishing getting the picture when Harry and Ron came down, both looking as self-conscious in their dress robes as Bryt felt in hers. Harry's dress robes(which were a dark green) looked nicer than Ron's, at least. Tattered and maroon, Bryt noticed that the ends looked as if the hems had been ripped open, leaving them looking frayed with random threads sticking out in various areas.

Bryt suddenly became very aware of the fact that Ron was staring at her just as much as she had been at his robes. When she met his gaze, though, he suddenly looked away, his face turning an odd shade of red.

"We should get going," Hermione said before Bryt could ask about Ron's staring.

"Yeah, time to get this over with," Bryt said with a sigh, gripping up the ends of her dress robes so she could walk better and started out with her friends.

The entrance hall was already packed with students, leaving the place in an odd sea of colors, constantly shifting as students trying to find their dates among the crowd. Bryt noticed Terry nearby wearing dark gray dress robes, talking with Parvati's sister, who was wearing robes of a turquoise blue. The color made Bryt instinctively run her fingers over her turquoise-chip bracelet around her wrist.

_'Glad he's doin' well,'_ Bryt thought, grinning a bit.

"Oh no..." Ron said and Bryt looked back towards him to see Ron was squatting slightly behind Harry in an attempt to hide. Bryt was about to ask why, but stopped herself as Fleur Delacour arrived, wearing silvery-gray dress robes that seemed to be of some silky material. She had found a date in the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, Rodger Davis, who seemed to be in an odd daze. Bryt rolled her eyes as they passed, then caught sight of a group of Slytherins(Malfoy and Parkinson in the lead) coming from the dungeons.

"Ron, you can rest assured your robes aren't the most ridiculous here," Bryt said, nodding towards the overly-frilly pink robes Parkinson was wearing and the high-collared robes Malfoy had.

The front doors opened and nearly everyone looked over to see the Durmstrang students coming in, Krum leading them with a blonde girl Bryt thought was a Ravenclaw a few years above her.

"Champions over here, please!" McGonagall called from the other side of the entrance hall.

Bryt and Harry both sighed, told Hermione and Ron they'd see them in a bit, and Bryt handed Hermione her camera before heading off with Harry. Bryt, once again, tripped on her robes, having to grab Harry's arm to keep from falling. Grumbling to herself, she remembered to pull up her robes slightly to keep herself from falling the rest of the walk.

_'Definitely gonna get killed in this thing,'_ Bryt thought, starting to wonder how she was going to manage dancing when she could barely walk in the dress robes.

The other three Champions with their dates were already there. Bryt noticed Harry seemed to be going out of his way not to look towards Diggory, and Bryt glanced over to him, then noticed Diggory's date was Cho Chang. Bryt felt sorry for Harry, wondering how it had to be for him to see the person he liked with another guy.

_'Probably about the same as I feel when Ron drools over that Delacour girl,'_ Bryt thought bitterly, glaring towards the Beauxbatons' champion.

The doors the Great Hall were finally opened and students started walking through, most all of them glancing towards the Champions with their dates. Bryt was already feeling awkward enough in dress robes without being put on display in front of the whole school. Bryt grinned at Neville and Ginny as they walked by, and Ginny returned the grin, though still looked disappointed over who she was with for the Yule Ball.

Once the last of the students were through the door, McGonagall had the Champions and their dates line up and follow her. Bryt took a deep breath as she walked forward, telling herself that the worst of it would be over soon. Then she could try to enjoy herself some during the Yule Ball.


	27. Yule Ball

Bryt glanced around the Great Hall as they entered, noting how different it looked now. It was almost like walking into a Christmas-themed freezer, without the chill. The walls were covered in frost and icicles, with mistletoe strung in crossing streams above the ceiling. Instead of the usual four House tables were hundreds of smaller round tables.

Bryt nodded and smiled to the people she knew, determined to keep one hand gripping on her robes while the other around Harry's arm in case she tripped up again. She noticed Hermione and Ron had found a table towards the middle of the Great Hall and were sitting there with Neville and Ginny, who still didn't seem to be all that happy with who she was with.

Bryt turned her attention to the head round table where she would be sitting with Harry for now. She noticed the three school heads and Ludo Bagman, but was surprised, and annoyed, when she noticed that Percy was in the fifth seat instead of Mr. Crouch. Percy suddenly pulled out the chair next to him as he looked over towards Harry and Bryt, obviously expecting them to sit with him.

"Harry, don't you dare," Bryt hissed under her breath.

"What'm I supposed to do?" Harry whispered back, "If I ignore him, he'll find us later and it'll be worse."

Bryt groaned, tightening her grip on her robes slightly as they reached the table and Harry sat next to Percy.

_'I'm gonna kill Harry for this,'_ Bryt thought, tripping on her robes again as she let them go to sit down on Harry's other side, _'If these robes don't kill me first, that is.'_

"I've been promoted," Percy wasted no time in starting up a conversation, acting as if this news meant he was becoming the new Minister of Magic(_'This is going to be a long night,'_ Bryt thought, annoyed), "I'm now Mr. Crouch's personal assistant, and I'm here representing him."

"Why didn't he come?" Harry asked.

"I'm afraid to say Mr. Crouch isn't well, not well at all. Hasn't been right since the World Cup. Hardly surprising—overwork. He's not as young as he was—though still quite brilliant, of course, the mind remains as great as it ever was. But the World Cup was a fiasco for the whole Ministry, and then, Mr. Crouch suffered a huge personal shock with the misbehavior of that house elf of his, Blinky, or whatever she was called. Naturally, he dismissed her immediately afterward."

Bryt glared, opening her mouth to argue and point out the house elf's name was Winky, and that what had happened wasn't her fault, but Harry jabbed her hard in the side with his elbow. Bryt turned her glare to Harry, who shook his head once. Bryt opened her mouth to argue with him, but Harry shook his head again, more forcefully. Bryt sighed, giving in. Now that she thought about it, starting an argument with Percy in front of the entire school, while sitting at the table with Dumbledore, Karkaroff, and Maxime, was not a smart move.

"But, well, as I say, he's getting on," Percy went on, completely unaware of Harry and Bryt's silent argument next to him, "He needs looking after, and I think he's found a definite drop in his home comforts since she left."

_'Serves him right,'_ Bryt thought bitterly, but kept her mouth tightly shut.

"And then we had the tournament to arrange, and the aftermath of the World Cup to deal with—that revolting Skeeter woman buzzing around—no, poor man, he's having a well-earned quiet Christmas. I'm just glad he knew he had someone he could rely upon to take his place."

"Bet he relies on you a lot, _Weatherby_," Bryt muttered under her breath. Harry suddenly made an odd noise that sounded halfway between a laugh and a cough.

Bryt tried to distract herself from who was sitting near her by picking up the menu by her plate, making a bit of a face. Menus meant multiple choices. That meant more work for the house elves down in the kitchen.

_'Well, not really...'_ Bryt told herself once she thought it over. The house elves prepared multiple meals every day, it was simply the students made their own plates when they sat down. There wasn't much extra work they'd have to do. Still, Bryt wasn't too fond of them having any type of extra work.

For a moment, Bryt was tempted to skip the meal. She pushed back the idea, however, considering she was already in a bad mood as it was. Skipping eating would just make things worse, and she'd most likely end up taking it out on her friends.

Bryt glanced around the Great Hall, looking off to the table where Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were. All she could think about was how she'd rather be over there than stuck up here with Percy prattling on, and Bryt forcing herself to keep from arguing.

_'I definitely should have sucked it up and went with Ron,'_ Bryt thought, stabbing her fork into her baked potato.

"Vell, ve have a castle also," someone was saying and Bryt looked up, surprised to see it was Krum, who was talking happily with the blonde girl next to him, "Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these—though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and mountains—"

"Now, now, Viktor!" Karkaroff cut in with an obviously forced laugh, "Don't go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"

"Igor," Dumbledore said with a smile, "All this secrecy...one would almost think you didn't want visitors."

"Well, Dumbledore, we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school's secrets, and right to protect them?"

"Oh, I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts' secrets, Igor," Dumbledore replied, "Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turn on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamber pots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon—or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder."

Bryt and Harry both snorted into their food. Percy glared at them, though Bryt just ignored it.

"Zis is nothing," Delacour was saying to her date, "At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we 'ave ice sculptures all around ze dining chamber at Chreestmas. Zey do not melt, of course...Zey are all like 'uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply superb. And we 'ave choirs of wood nymphs, 'oo serenade us as we eat. We 'ave none of zis ugly armor in ze 'alls, and eef a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons, 'e would be expelled like _zat_." Delacour slammed her hand down on the table for emphasis.

_'God, I wish she'd shut up,'_ Bryt thought, glaring towards the tall blonde. Bryt didn't care so much that Delacour didn't like Hogwarts(after all, everyone was entitled to their own opinions). It was the girl wouldn't shut up about how 'horrible' the place was and how much better it was at Beauxbatons.

Bryt found herself actually relieved when Dumbledore stood up, calling for the students to do the same. It meant that it was time for Harry and Bryt to stumble through the dance, yes, but it also meant Bryt could get away from Percy and Delacour.

As the tables were moved towards the sides of the Great Hall and the Weird Sisters came in, Bryt took a deep breath.

"Time to get this over with, Harry," she said with a grin.

Once out on the dance floor, Bryt took one of Harry's hands in hers, placing her other hand on his shoulder and Harry awkwardly put a hand around her back. Bryt caught sight of Seamus and Dean snickering at one table, but once they caught Bryt glaring at them, they both stopped suddenly.

The music started with a slow tune and Harry and Bryt stumbled over each other before finally getting their footing, more-so working in a small circle in one place instead of dancing like the other three couples on the dance floor.

"Dancin's definitely somethin' I'm not good at," Bryt said, glancing around and noticing more couples were starting to move out to the dance floor now.

"I think it's safe to say I'm not, either," Harry said.

"I thought the famous Harry Potter could do anythin'," Bryt teased, grinning. It was turning out that dancing with her friend wasn't quite as awkward as she thought it would be. Especially since they were both content on making sure there was plenty of distance between them.

"Nice socks, Potter."

Bryt looked over and tensed as she noticed Moody passing, dancing awkwardly with the Astronomy professor.

"Oh—yeah," Harry said, "Dobby the house elf knitted them for me."

"Glad to see you appreciated them," Bryt told Harry with a grin. She liked Dobby, and she liked to see that Harry seemed to appreciate the house elf as well, "By the way, can I ask you somethin', Harry?"

"Sure," Harry said.

Bryt took a deep breath. She didn't even know why she was about to ask this. Still, she felt like she needed to.

"Who did Ron ask to the Yule Ball?"

Harry stared at Bryt in surprise, obviously not expecting that question.

"Er...Fleur Delacour...Why?"

Bryt immediately scanned the crowd to where Delacour and Davis were dancing, glaring towards the woman.

"It wasn't exactly his fault, though," Harry said suddenly and Bryt jerked her head back, staring at him.

"I mean..." Harry continued, "Fleur's part-veela. Ron was just walking by while she was trying to turn the charm on someone else, and he couldn't help himself."

Bryt snorted, but also felt a bit relieved. If Ron really had just been acting under the influence of veela magic, Bryt couldn't really hold what happened against him. Bryt thought back to the Quidditch World Cup and how even the oldest of wizards were effected by veela. How could Bryt get mad at Ron for acting on something he wasn't prepared for and had no control over?

_'Even though I'm bad at this, maybe I will ask Ron for a dance later,'_ Bryt thought, glancing over towards where Hermione and Ron were sitting.

Once the song ended, Bryt and Harry were both ready to leave the dance floor. Bryt gripped up her robes to keep from tripping on them again and followed Harry through the crowd towards where Hermione and Ron were.

"Glad that's over with," Bryt said as she sat down.

"You didn't look like you were having too hard a time up there," Hermione said.

"It's harder than it looks," Bryt said, "And I swear these robes are just too long. I keep trippin' on them."

"I'm still waiting to see you fall flat on your face," Ron said with a grin, "I want to get that with your camera."

"You do and I'll murder you in your sleep," Bryt shot back with a glare. Ron and Harry both laughed while Hermione rolled her eyes.

Now that Bryt was away from Percy, and not thinking about dancing in front of the entire school, she was beginning to enjoy herself. None of the four had any interest in dancing to the fast-paced music, so Bryt, Ron, Harry, and Hermione stayed at their table, talking and watching others while Bryt took occasional pictures.

At the same time, Bryt found herself hoping that the Weird Sisters would switch back to a slower tune. She realized that, where before she had been reluctant to dance with Harry, or to have asked Ron to the Yule Ball in the first place, she instead was _wanting_ to have a chance to dance with Ron. She was also determined that she wouldn't take no for an answer. If Ron started to protest, Bryt would tell him that Harry 'had to suffer' a dance, so Ron was going to as well.

Bryt looked up and noticed Percy was starting to make his way over to their table. She let out a groan and pushed herself to her feet.

"I'm gonna get somethin' to drink," she said, pulling up the ends of her robes and heading off towards the other side of the Great Hall, where Ginny was getting a bottle of butterbeer.

"Enjoyin' yourself?" Bryt asked and Ginny looked up at her and grinned.

"More than I thought I would," she said, "Neville's not much of a dancer, but he's nice all the same, and I've started talking a bit with another student. Michael Corner."

"I know him," Bryt said with a nod, "Not too well, though. Just he's friends with Terry. He's pretty nice from the times I was around him."

"I'm thinking about talking to him more after the Yule Ball," Ginny said with a grin, and Bryt noticed the girl's cheeks went a light shade of pink.

Bryt grinned and hoped Ginny would have more luck with Michael than she did with the mystery boy that she had mentioned before the start of the school year.

Bryt picked up a bottle of butterbeer and glanced back to the table with her friends. She sighed when she noticed Percy was still there, now talking with Ron about something. She blinked in confusion when Harry suddenly took Ron by the arm and started pulling him off through the crowd.

"I'll see you later, Ginny," Bryt said, starting towards Harry and Ron, but was stopped halfway there by Hermione.

"Hey, what happened with them?" Bryt asked, motioning to where Harry and Ron were heading through the Great Hall doors.

"Ron and Percy got into an argument," Hermione said, "Percy told Harry that he didn't believe you were a very wise choice in a girlfriend, and Ron didn't exactly appreciate it."

"I figured Percy doesn't like me much," Bryt said with a shrug, though an odd sensation went through her at the thought of Ron arguing in her defense.

_'You'd do the same for any of your friends,'_ Bryt told herself, _'Don't think so much into it.'_

Still, Bryt liked the thought of Ron defending her. Despite the fact Bryt didn't care what others thought about her. Especially Percy Weasley.

"I'm plannin' on askin' Ron to a dance when he comes back in," Bryt said, looking back to Hermione, "Takin' your advice and just talkin' to him." Bryt shrugged again. "We'll just see how it goes from there. But I'm tired of constantly wonderin'."

"I'm sure things will turn out fine," Hermione said with a grin.

"I sure hope so," Bryt replied with a sigh.

Bryt and Hermione continued to talk while Bryt kept an eye on the door for when Harry and Ron returned. Once they did, the two boys made their way to the furthest table from the dance floor that they could find. Bryt and Hermione started making their way through the crowd towards them.

"Hey guys," Bryt said as she and Hermione reached the two boys. Hermione sat down as they looked up, but Bryt stood where she was, watching Ron.

Just then, the music switched to another slower paced song. Bryt straightened, taking a deep breath.

"Ron, c'mon," Bryt said, nodding towards the dance floor. Ron simply stared back with a confused expression, so Bryt grabbed his arm, deciding it was better to go direct than to actually ask. "C'mon. Harry had to do this, you're goin' to, too."

Surprisingly, Ron didn't put up much protest, getting up and following Bryt towards the dance floor, though when Bryt turned back to him, she noticed he was red-faced and looked uncomfortable.

"C'mon, just the one dance," Bryt said, feeling uncomfortable herself. Like with Harry, Bryt took one of Ron's hands in hers, resting the other on Ron's shoulder.

Dancing with Ron was much more awkward than it had been with Harry, as Bryt kept having to fight the urge to move closer towards Ron and ignore the heat she was feeling in her face now. Plus, the height difference between the two was much more noticeable as Ron was quite tall for his age, while Bryt was barely more than four-and-a-half feet.

The two danced in silence, more-so rotating in a circle on the spot, for some time before Ron cleared his throat and Bryt tilted her head up to look up at him.

"You look...er..." Ron started.

"You can say it. I look ridiculous," Bryt finished for him, rolling her eyes.

"That...That wasn't what I was going to say..."

Bryt felt the heat rush to her face again as she looked away.

"I'm not used to dress robes," Bryt said, "I don't like them."

"You do look..." Ron paused, "Weird."

"Weird?" Bryt asked, looking back at Ron.

"I'm not used to seeing you dress up," Ron said, "It's odd...But, er...You still look...well, nice..."

Bryt felt herself blush deepen as she grinned a bit.

"Thanks," she said. Sometimes Ron could be a sweet guy. When he made the effort to try to be.

"So, er, am I supposed to twirl you or something?" Ron asked as he noticed a couple nearby do just that.

Bryt thought about the idea of being twirled around, the dress robes ruffling around her, and broke out into hard giggling. It got bad enough that she was having trouble breathing and had to lean forward, resting her head against Ron as she laughed.

"S-sorry," Bryt managed, trying to settle herself down as she leaned back to look up at Ron, noticing his face had gone red again, "Twirlin's a no. I'm havin' enough trouble as it is with dancin'. Just enjoy this. Don't worry about everyone else."

The song ended and Bryt and Ron both seemed to hesitate before letting go of each other. Almost to the point where they were pressed against each other. Though Bryt liked the idea of dancing more with Ron, since she was sure it wouldn't be so awkward the next time, she didn't want to make him more uncomfortable. Instead, the two made their way over towards the table where Harry and Hermione were waiting. Hermione was grinning at them with an odd look on her face as the two sat down, but didn't say anything.

"Did Ron tell you about what we overheard?" Harry asked as Bryt opened the butterbeer Hermione handed her.

"No, he didn't," Bryt said, glancing towards Ron, "We didn't really...talk about much." Bryt felt her face grow a bit warm as she thought about Ron telling her that she looked nice.

"I don't see what the problem is myself," Hermione said, "It shouldn't matter that Hagrid is half-giant—"

Bryt choked on her butterbeer.

"He's what?" she asked, patting her chest. She had always wondered why Hagrid was so large, but she never imagined that it could be due to having giant blood. After all, giants were pretty much oversized trolls. Brutal, savage killers who were practically extinct in Britain.

"I don't think it matters, truthfully," Harry said, "I mean, we all know Hagrid's a great guy."

"But this isn't exactly somethin' that should get out," Bryt said, her thoughts immediately going to Rita Skeeter. She was glad the woman was banned from Hogwarts grounds. If she ever found out about Hagrid's heritage, she could cause a lot of trouble.

"But giants can't all be bad, right?" Hermione asked, "It's just like the prejudice against werewolves."

"Hermione, giants are basically big trolls," Bryt said, "Trust me, they ain't nice creatures."

Hermione stared at Bryt with an odd expression, but nodded.

"I suppose you could be right," she said slowly.

The four spent the rest of the Yule Ball talking about giants, which was more Bryt talking about what she read about them and Ron sharing stories he had heard. At midnight, the Weird Sisters finished their final song and were met with applause as students began heading back towards their respective Houses.

"Wasn't quite as bad as it could have been," Bryt said, holding the her camera and the stack of pictures she hand Hermione had taken throughout the night. She'd have to go through them once they got back to the Gryffindor common room.

"Hey—Harry!"

The four friends stopped halfway up the first flight of stairs, turning to see Cedric Diggory coming up to them, Cho Chang standing at the foot of the stairs. Diggory looked at Harry, then glanced towards Bryt, Hermione, and Ron, obviously not wanting to say whatever he planned to in front of them.

"We'll head on," Bryt said, turning and starting up the stairs, tripping on her robes again. Gripping her pictures and camera, she couldn't exactly stop herself, but she felt someone grab her arm to steady her. Looking up, Bryt blushed as she realized it was Ron, who was watching her with a concerned look.

"I'm fine, thanks," Bryt said, handing the pictures and camera to Hermione to hold so she could grip her robes better to not trip again. Ron hesitated, as if making sure Bryt really wouldn't trip again, before letting to of her arm and the three started up the stairs again.

Once in the common room, Bryt and Hermione told Ron good night, Bryt eager to change out of her dress robes. Bryt and Hermione headed to their dormitory, where Bryt immediately changed into a pair of pajamas and threw her dress robes down into her trunk, though Bryt would have much rather burned them.

_'Maybe I'll sell them to a second-hand shop or somethin','_ Bryt thought, sitting down on her bed as Hermione sat next to her, changed into pajamas herself, and handed Bryt back the stack of pictures.

"I'll have to figure out which ones to put in my album later," Bryt said, starting to flip through them with Hermione looking over her shoulder. There were plenty of pictures of the four friends together, and Hermione had taken a couple of Harry and Bryt's dance. Bryt had also gotten several of the other Gryffindors. Bryt would have to see if any of them would want copies of the pictures.

Bryt suddenly stopped as she came across another picture Hermione had taken. This one of Bryt and Ron dancing together. Both of them were grinning awkwardly at each other as they turned slowly on the spot, and both were red-faced. It was obviously when Bryt had started laughing because she saw herself leaning against Ron occasionally before looking back up. Bryt blushed as she realized by watching the picture that she and Ron had stayed much closer together than she realized.

As Bryt stared at the picture, she thought about the way Ron had stared at her when he first saw her in her dress robes, how he told her that she looked nice...Then, she thought about the disappointed look Ron had on his face the week before when Bryt had said she was going with Harry. She couldn't help but wonder now if Ron had actually been hoping Bryt would choose him...

_'Maybe I was wrong about the feelin' not bein' mutual with us...' _Bryt thought, grinning as she decided that this picture would have to go in a frame instead of an album, _'Maybe there's a chance for us after all...'_


	28. A Step Forward

Now with the Yule Ball done, it was time to start thinking of the homework everyone, except Hermione, had been putting off. Bryt was now sitting at a table with her friends, though Bryt noticed that Ron was, once again, sitting rather close to her.

Bryt knew now that she wanted to take things further with Ron, and had a good feeling he might be in the same mind, she just didn't know how to make it happen. When Bryt had dated Terry, the attraction had always been between them. They had been building up to dating from their first meeting. Ron was different. He and Bryt had simply been friends for the past three-and-a-half years, with the attraction(at least for Bryt) not building until recently. Bryt wasn't sure how she should go about this.

"Bryt?"

Bryt jerked herself from her thoughts and looked at Ron next to her, who was staring at her curiously.

"Sorry, what?" she asked.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked from across the table.

"I'm fine," Bryt said with a grin, "Just procrastinatin'." Bryt turned back to Ron. "Somethin' you needed?"

"Can you check my essay for me?" Ron asked, motioning to his Potions assignment that he had obviously just finished.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed.

"What? I'm asking her to check it, not do it for me!" Ron replied. Bryt laughed, reaching over and pulling Ron's essay over to her, ignoring Hermione's glare.

"What would you do without me?" Bryt asked, dipping her quill into her ink as she started to read over the paper.

"Fail Potions miserably."

Bryt grinned, marking through Ron's first mistake and writing a correction over it.

"Oh, that's great," Ron said sarcastically, "Couldn't you have used black? I think Snape's going to know something's up when my ink suddenly turns orange."

"He'll notice the handwritin' changes, too," Bryt pointed out, "That's why you go and rewrite this with the corrections."

"Bryt, you shouldn't be encouraging him like this," Hermione said.

"Again, I'm _checkin'_ his work, not doin' it for him," Bryt pointed out, "Huge difference there."

Hermione simply sighed, shaking her head disapprovingly. A couple of minutes later, Bryt finished checking over Ron's paper and pushed it back to him before looking at Harry.

"Want me to check yours?" she offered.

"Er..." Harry started, then noticed Hermione glaring at him, "Er, no. I'm fine."

"Suit yourself," Bryt said, looking down at her Transfiguration essay she had been putting off. She sighed, dipping her quill into the ink again. It would have been nice to ask for Hermione's help, but she doubted Hermione would be willing after Bryt's helping Ron on his Potions assignment.

_'Still don't see what's so wrong with correctin' his work,'_ she thought.

Bryt glanced at Ron again, then back down at her paper, her earlier thoughts coming back.

_'Maybe I can get him alone. Talk to him,'_ Bryt thought.

But when? The four were almost always with each other, and when not, Bryt was often with Hermione, while Ron with Harry. Bryt didn't like the idea of asking to talk to Ron alone for a moment...She was just going to have to catch him away from Harry. Whenever that would be.

_'Well, Harry still has to figure out the egg,'_ Bryt thought, _'And Hermione's easier to talk into lettin' me and Ron have a moment alone than Harry would be.'_

Bryt gave a short nod as she tried to put her focus back on her homework, her mind made up. The next time Harry would be working on the egg, Bryt would get Hermione to give her and Ron a moment alone so Bryt could talk with him.

That time came sooner than Bryt expected. After dinner that night, Harry said he was going to spend a few hours before bed to work on the egg up in the dormitory. Luckily, Bryt didn't have to convince Hermione of anything, as she decided she was going up to the dormitories, too, planning to use the two-way journal to talk with Julio for a while. This left Bryt and Ron sitting alone at their usual table by the common room fireplace.

This was the moment Bryt was waiting for. A chance to talk to Ron without Hermione or Harry around. Bryt took a deep breath, deciding it was better to just push forward and get it over with. Bryt slipped off her chipped turquoise bracelet and started playing with it between her hands, it calming her nerves slightly, though not completely.

"Ron, I've been thinkin' about somethin'," Bryt said slowly, looking over at her friend. Ron simply stared back with a curious expression. Bryt could already feel her face starting to grow warm.

_'Just what I need,'_ Bryt thought, _'I'm blushin' now.'_

"Well," Bryt started slowly, trying to figure out how exactly to explain this(_'Why does it have to be so hard?'_ she thought), "We've been friends for a while, I know. Three-and-a-half years now."

"That's what you've been thinking about?" Ron asked, staring at Bryt as if she suddenly grew a second head, "What—"

"Shut up, Ron, let me talk," Bryt cut in, raising her hand, "I need to get through this before I decide to chicken out."

Ron clamped his mouth shut, still staring at Bryt as if she had gone insane(a look he gave Bryt a lot, actually), but he also looked curious now.

"I always figured that's how we'd stay. Just friends," Bryt paused, taking a deep breath, determined to keep her gaze on Ron as she went on, "I mean, as I've said hundreds of times before—especially around Sofí—that I thought the whole idea of 'datin' your best friend' was a cliché, one that I wasn't gonna become.

"The past couple of months, however...I don't know what, but somethin' changed," Bryt took another breath, noticing Ron was looking even more confused now. He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't want Bryt snapping at him again, so he kept quiet. Bryt took this as a good sign and continued on, falling back to an old habit of beginning to ramble when she was nervous.

"I don't know when exactly it started..." Bryt said, "But I just...I started to realize that, despite thinkin' it'd never happen, that I was startin' to think of you as much more than just a friend." Bryt paused for a moment as Ron suddenly looked both pleased and surprised. Bryt grinned, but didn't stop to give Ron a moment to respond, more-so unable to stop herself now that she had started.

"At first, I just kept tellin' myself it wasn't happenin', that I really wasn't thinkin' that. It didn't last long, of course, and Hermione tried to talk me into talkin' to you about it. I kept refusin'. At the time, I thought all of this was just one-sided, that I was still 'just a friend' to you."

"That's—"

"I probably should have takin' her advice," Bryt cut in, "I mean, I almost did. When I made the suggestion of Hermione and I would go to the Yule Ball with you and Harry, I had planned to go with you."

"But—"

"Then Ginny said you had asked someone else," Bryt, once again, cut Ron off, though it was more her unable to keep herself from talking than being rude, "I got disappointed...And jealous. I thought, well, that you didn't really wanna go with me...Or else you would have asked me. I switched at that moment and said I'd go with Harry...Though at the Yule Ball, I kept thinkin' I should have just gone with you. That I had wanted to.

"I at first thought you didn't want the same as me, but after the Yule Ball, I started thinkin' things over and...I started thinkin' that maybe...Maybe you do. I hope you do. Or else I'm sayin' all this for nothin', and just puttin' somethin' awkward between us that we can't go back on. And I'm startin' to run out of things to say, so I really should stop now and just let you answer finally..."

Bryt took another deep breath, still clutching her bracelet tightly between her hands, knowing she must have been blushing brightly now with how hot her face felt. She stubbornly kept herself looking at Ron, who was red-faced himself, his expression a mixture of confusion and joy. Ron was quiet, opening his mouth once and closing it again, obviously trying to figure out what to say. Bryt, however, had read enough in his expression and started grinning, throwing her arms around Ron's neck and kissing him right on the mouth.

Ron, obviously surprised, lost balance and fell backwards off the couch, Bryt tumbling down with him onto the floor with a loud thump. Bryt pushed herself up a bit, a hand on either side of Ron's head, as she grinned awkwardly down at him. Before she could apologize, though, someone let out a cat call nearby and laughter rippled through the common room. Bryt pushed herself up quickly to her knees, noticing most of the common room was staring over at her and Ron, and it was obvious where the cat call had come from. Fred and George were nearby, both looking at Bryt and Ron with amused smirks on their faces.

_'There goes hopin' to keep this for private just for a few minutes,'_ Bryt thought as Ron sat up next to her, glaring over at his brothers. Bryt was sure that, if the two of them hadn't went tumbling to the floor, no one in the common room really would have noticed what happened.

"Sorry about that, Ron," Bryt said as she looked around, grabbing her bracelet off the floor. She slipped it back on her wrist as she got up, dusting herself off before sitting on the couch again. Ron, still red-faced in embarrassment, sat next to her.

"It's okay," Ron said, and Bryt was relieved to see he was grinning now, though awkwardly, "It's just you...well..."

"I attacked you," Bryt couldn't help but giggle. Ron shrugged, his grin growing a bit. Bryt glanced over to Fred and George, who were still looking overly-amused as they were talking in hushed whispers now.

"They're not going to let us forget that anytime soon," Ron grumbled. Bryt was the one to shrug this time.

"They try anythin', and I'll just hit them," she said, though she doubted she actually would. Bryt didn't know Fred and George as well as she did Ron or Ginny, but she still liked the two of them well enough. And how similar they seemed to Sofí, Bryt knew the teasing was inevitable.

Thinking of Sofí, Bryt groaned.

"I'll never hear the end of it from her..." she said.

"From who?" Ron asked, confused.

"Sofí, of course," Bryt looked over at Ron, "I've spent years insistin' I'd never date you or Harry, and now...Well, here we are."

Bryt couldn't help but grin, an odd joy spreading through her now that she had actually said it. Here they were. Her and Ron. They had actually kissed—though in a not-so-private way—and Ron wasn't turning away.

_'How could I have ever thought Ron'd never want this?' _she thought, staring at Ron's grin, _'I should have done this a lot sooner.'_

Bryt's grin grew as she gripped Ron's hand, leaning up and kissing Ron on the cheek.

"But she can say whatever she wants, I won't care" she said, then looked over to see Hermione sitting down across from them, a grin on her face as she looked between Ron and Bryt.

"What?" they both asked.

"Oh, nothing," Hermione said as Crookshanks jumped into her lap and Hermione scratched the cat behind the ears, "Just thinking it's about time you two got your act together."

Ron and Bryt both blushed, looking over at each other with a grin. Things were most likely going to be different in their little group now, but Bryt didn't mind. She had a feeling this was going to definitely be a change for the better.


	29. A Nasty Article

When Bryt and Ron told Harry about them dating now, he was taken aback at first. After a moment, though, he recovered from it and said that, truthfully, he should have known it would happen sooner or later after what had happened at the Yule Ball. Bryt was glad that he didn't mention telling Bryt about Ron asking Delacour to the dance, as she didn't want to embarrass Ron be telling him that she knew about it.

Bryt had to admit that was happier than she had been in months. She was finally able to be normal around Ron again. She didn't have to keep herself on guard to hide her feelings, or constantly wonder what 'might be'. She and Ron were actually together now. For that, Bryt was willing to put up with the teasing Fred and George gave over the next few days—which mostly consisted of jokes whenever the two were around, and once Fred stating that he always though Bryt was "completely off her rocker" and dating Ron only proved it.

On the last day of holidays, Mike and Drew returned from home, but Bryt hadn't mentioned to them about her newly born relationship with Ron. After all, they were eleven—soon to be twelve in a couple of weeks—and Bryt was sure they'd know about it soon enough anyway.

And Mike did find out. Bryt had been talking with her friends, teasing Ron about the Chudley Cannons. She had just leaned over and kissed Ron when she heard someone from behind the couch.

"Is that what Mom thought you'd do?"

Bryt jerked her head up to see Mike leaning on the back of the couch and watching his sister. Bryt glared at her little brother. She had forgotten about how he had a habit of showing up at the worst times and wanting to know what everyone was doing.

_'Probably because the past few months, he's been annoyin' other students instead of me,'_ Bryt thought.

"Bugger off, midget," Ron said. Bryt elbowed him in the side, gaining her a glare.

"Mike, you need to learn not to stick your nose in someone else's business," Bryt said, turning to her brother and trying to ignore Harry's attempts not to start laughing.

"You didn't answer my question," Mike said with a grin.

"What're you talkin' about?" Bryt asked, trying to keep from getting angry. Why did Mike have to choose now to reshow his nosy side?

"You told Mom it was okay for you to go to the Weasleys because you didn't plan on doing anything," Mike said with a grin, then pointed towards Ron, "But you're _kissing_ him! Is that what she thought you'd do there? And at the Yule Ball? She kept saying over the holidays she was sure you'd be 'doing something with some boy' that you wouldn't tell her about while there."

Harry couldn't hold back anymore and started laughing loudly. Bryt glared over at him and noticed Hermione had her head ducked down. Bryt could swear that girl was grinning, though.

"Michael, go away!" Bryt said, irritated as she pointed away from them. Mike grinned again before turning and rushing over to where Natalie was, obviously planning to tell her about his sister's boyfriend.

"I have enough of this from Fred and George," Ron said, his face as red as his hair from embarrassment, "Your brothers are going to start now?"

"Mike will, at least," Bryt said with a sigh, turning back around on the couch and leaning back, glaring over at Harry, who was still laughing.

"I forgot how annoyin' that boy can be," Bryt went on, "I swear, he's nosier than that Skeeter woman."

"Then be glad he's not a reporter," Hermione said simply.

"Yeah, no tellin' the stories he'd print if he was," Bryt replied with a sigh, "A bad thing about brothers. They have a lot of dirt on you."

"Like how your mum thinks you're planning on 'doing something' with your friends?" Harry asked with a smirk.

Bryt glared and threw one of the couch cushions at him, which only caused him to laugh harder as he caught it.

**xxxxx**

Bryt woke up the next morning with the dormitory oddly dim. She noticed the reason soon enough as she looked out the window and realized she couldn't see out of it due to the snow built up on it.

_'Gonna make for a cold mornin','_ Bryt thought, knowing they had Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures today.

Bryt and Hermione dressed quickly and warmly before heading down into the common room where Harry and Ron were waiting. Bryt grinned, kissing Ron lightly on the cheek before the four headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"It's going to be so cold outside today," Hermione said, glancing at a snow-covered window as they headed down a hallway.

"Don't worry, those skrewts of Hagrid's will keep us warm," Ron replied, "Probably by either chasing us or setting us on fire."

Bryt rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything as they continued down to breakfast, sitting down together. Bryt was halfway through a bowl of oatmeal when the mail arrived, Joey seeming tired from his flight from the States with a letter from Sofí. Bryt fed Joey a piece of bacon, pet him once, and the owl flew off again. Bryt was about to open the letter from Sofí when she suddenly noticed the front of her copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

"It's Hagrid," Bryt said in disbelief, smoothing the paper out more and staring at the picture of Hagrid, who looked cruel in the image, the words DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE in thick print above them.

"This can't be good..." Ron said, leaning over Bryt slightly to stare at the paper. Bryt shook her head, moving the paper over so all four of them could read it together.

_Albus Dumbledore, eccentric headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, _writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent._ In September of this year, he hired Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures._

_Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates._

_An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being "very frightening."_

"_I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm," says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student. "We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything."_

_Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a _Daily Prophet_ reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed "Blast-Ended Skrewts," highly dangerous crosses between manticores and fire-crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creatures is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions._

"_I was just having some fun," he says, before hastily changing the subject._

_As if this were not enough, the _Daily Prophet_ has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not—as he has always pretended—a pureblood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown._

_Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror._

_While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature._

_In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought You-Know-Who's fall from power—thereby driving Hagrid's own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who's supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend—but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants._

Bryt looked up at her friends and noticed Ron and Hermione's mouths were hanging open and Harry looked as angry as Bryt felt.

"How the hell did she find out?" Bryt hissed.

"You don't think Hagrid told her?" Hermione asked, worried.

"No," Harry spoke up, "He never even told us, did he?"

"Skeeter probably got mad Hagrid wouldn't say anythin' bad about you," Bryt said, "Decided she'd get Hagrid back for it. But how could she have found out? I mean, she's not allowed on Hogwarts grounds anymore."

"Maybe she overheard Hagrid at the Yule Ball," Harry said, "She probably has an Invisibility Cloak. Sort of thing she'd do, isn't it, hide in bushes and listening to people."

"Like you and Ron did, you mean," Hermione said.

"We weren't trying to hear him!" Ron protested, "We didn't have any choice! That stupid prat, talking about his giantess mother where anyone could have heard him!"

"We should talk to him," Bryt said, "Durin' class today."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione nodded in agreement, turning back to their breakfast. Bryt went to Sofí's letter, deciding it'd be a good way to distract her from the article on Hagrid.

_Hey, Brychelle_

_Hope you had a great Christmas. Julio and I did, that's for sure. Though you probably already know thanks to that two-way diary Julio and Hermione has. Julio offered to let me use it to talk with you, but I can't stand that thing. It's too weird._

_Anyway, thanks a ton for the pack of tarot cards! I haven't had a chance to replace my old set that Astrid accidentally set on fire in that Divination lesson. I told you about her knocking over that candle, didn't I? Probably did. I would have had to for you to know I needed new cards after all._

_So, how did the Yule Ball go? How're things going with Ron? Tell me everything and I want pictures of the Yule Ball!_

_I can't wait for summer to get here. I'm looking forward to a couple of months with you in Britain._

_Sofí_

Bryt grinned, but then thought of something as she read over the letter again. Why was Sofí specifically asking about Ron? After all, Sofí most likely wrote and sent this letter on Christmas, or the day after. That was before Bryt had admitted to Ron how she felt about him. Bryt had never told Sofí about her growing attraction for her friend.

_'Well, Sofí's been teasin' me about needin' to date Ron for a while now,'_ Bryt reminded herself, folding the letter and putting it in her bag. She would have to write Sofí back that afternoon, and admit she was now dating Ron. She would just have to suffer through the teasing. After all, she already was with Fred and George.

Bryt pushed the thought of the letter from her mind, focusing instead on the classes they had that day as she headed out with her friends. Herbology passed by slowly for Bryt as she kept glancing towards the walls, which she couldn't see through for the frost and snow, wanting to get down to Hagrid's hut and talk with him about Skeeter's article.

It was a disappointment for her when Care of Magical Creatures finally came and, instead of Hagrid, an elderly woman with short gray hair was waiting for the class outside of Hagrid's hut.

"Hurry up now, the bell rang five minutes ago," the woman said sharply as the students made their way through the deep snow.

Bryt exchanged a worried look with her friends. Hagrid not being there wasn't a good sign.

"Who're you?" Ron asked, looking back at the woman, "Where's Hagrid?"

"My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank," the woman replied, "I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher."

"Where's Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"He is indisposed."

Bryt looked over at her friends again, worried more about where Hagrid was and if his disappearance had anything to do with Skeeter's article. Someone laughed nearby and Bryt glared over at the Slytherin half of their class, all of whom seemed very amused.

"This way, please," Grubbly-Plank said, turning and heading off around Hagrid's hut without waiting for the class.

Bryt followed behind with her friends, glancing towards the dark windows of Hagrid's hut.

"D'you think he got fired?" Bryt asked in a whisper.

"He better not have," Ron replied.

There was a sudden chorused gasp of awe and Bryt, Ron, Harry, and Hermione all looked up from their little huddle. It was easy to tell what had inspired the gasps. Tethered to a post near the edge of the forest was a unicorn, its fur a dazzling white that made the snow around it seem dull. Bryt grinned a little at the unicorn, just as awed at its beauty as the rest of the class. The last time Bryt had seen a unicorn, it had been dead, silvery blood pooled out around its broken body. The creature was much more magnificent alive.

"Oh, it's so beautiful!" Lavender whispered nearby, "How did she get it? They're supposed to be really hard to catch!"

"Boys keep back!" Grubbly-Plank said sharply and Bryt glared at her slightly. For a teacher, she seemed like a harsh woman. Even more-so than McGonagall, "They prefer the woman's touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with care, come on, easy does it..."

Bryt moved forward with the rest of the girls, but she didn't pay much attention to the lesson. Bryt had read a lot about unicorns over the years and already knew most anything there was to know about them. Instead, Bryt let her mind wander back to Hagrid as she glanced to his cabin again. She hoped that he was okay in there. She knew his absence had to do with Skeeter's article and she felt a jolt of anger towards the woman.

_'If I ever see Skeeter, I'm gonna punch her right in the face,'_ Bryt thought bitterly.

Bryt was grateful for the end of class as she made her way back towards the castle with her friends for lunch.

"I don't like that Hagrid wasn't here for class," she said, "We have to get him back."

"I say we go see him after dinner," Harry said.

Though it seemed Hagrid wasn't going to see them. No matter how much the four shouted for him through his door that night and banged hard on it, Hagrid never opened the door for them. After nearly ten minutes, they finally gave up and started back up towards the castle.

"What's Hagrid avoiding _us_ for?" Hermione asked, tightening her cloak around her as a cold breeze blew through, "He surely doesn't think we'd care about him being half-giant?"

Still, Hagrid didn't show up over the next week. Grubbly-Plank was still teaching their class, and Hagrid never even showed up in the Great Hall during meals. Malfoy kept throwing taunts at them about Hagrid whenever he could, which caused Bryt to end up with bruises on her arms from her friends' grips to keep the girl from attacking the Slytherin boy.

A welcoming change came halfway through January with the announcement of the next Hogsmeade trip.

"It's a couple of days before my brothers' birthday," Bryt said, leaning against Ron on their regular couch, "I'll have to get them somethin'."

"It would be nice getting out of the castle for a while," Harry said and Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"I thought you'd want to take advantage of the common room being quiet," she said, "Really get to work on that egg."

"C'mon, Hermione, d'you really think this room will be quiet with the first and second years around?" Bryt asked, looking at her, "Especially when two of 'em are my brother and his noisy friend?"

"Oh, I suppose not," Hermione said, but she was still looking at Harry, "But you really should try to work on that egg, Harry."

"Oh, I—I reckon I've got a pretty good idea what it's about now," Harry said.

"Have you really?" Hermione asked with a grin, "Well done!"

"And if you need help preparin' with the task, just ask," Bryt said with a grin of her own. Harry grinned back, but Bryt noticed it didn't seem quite as cheerful as usual.

_'Probably still just worried about Hagrid,'_ Bryt told herself, _'Maybe we can run into him at Hogsmeade and convince him to come back...'_

When Saturday came, the four bundled in warm clothes and headed out with other students planning to go to Hogsmeade for the day. As they crossed the grounds, the four saw something that made them stop. Viktor Krum was on the deck of the Durmstrang ship, wearing nothing but a pair of swimming shorts. Before Bryt could say anything about how insane the guy was, Krum suddenly dived off the side into the freezing water of the lake.

"He's mad!" Harry said, "It must be freezing! It's January!"

"I bet it's a lot colder where he's from," Bryt said, "I remember him talkin' about how they don't get much daylight or warm weather. Durmstrang must be really far north."

"Yeah, but there's still the giant squid," Ron said anxiously.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine and ready to play Quidditch this summer," Bryt said with a laugh, looping her arm around Ron's, "C'mon, I wanna get to Hogsmeade."

Once in the busy town, the four stopped in Honeydukes so Bryt could buy for her brothers, deciding to get them their favorite wizarding world sweets—Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans for Mike and Chocolate Frogs for Drew, who had also been collecting the cards for a few years, even though he hadn't known he was a wizard then.

After that, the four visited random shops, though didn't buy much this time, before deciding to head to the Three Broomsticks. The pub was more crowded than usual, as the cold outside was driving most people indoors. Bryt found herself looking around for Hagrid, though she didn't spot him anywhere.

"Doesn't he _ever_ go into the office?" Hermione suddenly asked, pointing towards the mirror behind the bar, "Look!"

Bryt, Harry, and Ron looked towards the mirror and knew instantly who Hermione was talking about. Through reflection, they saw that Ludo Bagman was sitting at a small table with a group of goblins, talking in a low, fast whisper.

"The second task ain't for another month," Bryt said, "What's he doin' here?"

As if knowing he was being talked about, Bagman looked up and noticed the four friends. He said something to the goblins with him, then stood up and made his way over.

"Harry! How are you?" Bagman asked with an odd grin, "Been hoping to run into you! Everything going all right?"

"Fine, thanks," Harry replied simply.

"Wonder if I could have a quick, private word, Harry?" Bagman asked, giving a quick glance to Bryt, Hermione, and Ron, "You couldn't give us a moment, you three, could you?"

"Er—okay," Ron said, turning away. He, Bryt, and Hermione started off for a table.

Hermione offered to get them butterbeers and started for the bar, so Ron and Bryt found the first empty table they could, sitting together on one side of it. Hermione came over soon after with four butterbeers, handing one each to Bryt and Ron.

"I wonder what Bagman wants with Harry," Bryt said slowly as she opened her butterbeer, taking a sip and enjoying the warm feeling that always spread through her with the first sip.

"I dunno," Ron said, staring off where Bagman and Harry were. It wasn't long before Fred and George started making their way over towards them and Bagman suddenly left. Harry turned, heading over to their table, sitting next to Hermione and taking the butterbeer offered to him.

"What did Bagman want?" Ron asked at once.

"He offered to help me with the golden egg," Harry said, taking a sip of butterbeer.

"He shouldn't be doing that!" Hermione said, "He's one of the judges! And anyway, you've already worked it out—haven't you?"

"Er...nearly," Harry said.

"Bet Dumbledore wouldn't like knowin' Bagman's tryin' to get you to cheat," Bryt said.

"Is he trying to help Cedric as much as you?" Hermione asked.

"No, I asked," Harry replied.

"Who cares if Diggory's getting help?" Ron asked and Bryt elbowed him in the side, giving him a harsh look.

"Those goblins didn't look very friendly," Hermione said before Ron could say anything, "What were they doing here?"

"Looking for Crouch, according to Bagman," Harry said, "He's still ill. Hasn't been into work."

"Maybe Percy's poisoning him," Ron said, "Probably thinks if Crouch snuffs it he'll be made Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

Bryt snorted into her butterbeer and Hermione glared at them.

"Funny, goblins looking for Mr. Crouch," Hermione said slowly, "They normally deal with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"Crouch can speak loads of different languages, though," Harry replied, "Maybe they need an interpreter."

"Worrying about poor 'ickle goblins, now, are you?" Ron asked with a smirk, "You and Bryt thinking of starting SPUG or something? Society for the Protection of Ugly Goblins?"

"Ron, don't make me hurt you," Bryt said, rolling her eyes.

"You've been doing that enough already!" Ron protested, "Thought you'd be nicer now that we're dating."

Bryt snorted.

"Thought you knew me better than that," she said with a smirk.

"Uh-oh," Harry suddenly said. Bryt looked over, thinking he was talking about them, but noticed he was looking across the pub. Bryt followed his gaze and glared, recognizing Skeeter and her photographer, who were making their way through the crowd.

"...didn't seem very keen to talk to us, did he, Bozo?" Skeeter was saying as she got nearer, though she hadn't spotted the quartet, "Now, why would that be, do you think? And what's he doing with a pack of goblins in tow anyway? Showing them the sights...what nonsense...he was always a bad liar. Reckon something's up? Think we should do a bit of digging? 'Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Games and Sports, Ludo Bagman...' Snappy start to a sentence, Bozo—we just need a story to fit it—"

"Trying to ruin someone else's life?" Harry asked loudly.

Skeeter turned towards them, as did several people within earshot. Her face brightened as she noticed Harry and Bryt had a strong urge to hit her.

"Harry!" Skeeter said, "How lovely! Why don't you come and join—"

"I wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot broomstick," Harry snapped, "What did you do that to Hagrid for?"

Skeeter raised an eyebrow, the look on her face making Bryt want to hit her all the more. She even started to get up, but Ron put a hand on her shoulder to keep her in her seat.

"Our readers have the right to the truth, Harry. I am merely doing my—"

"Who cares if he's half-giant?" Harry shouted, "There's nothing wrong with him!"

It seemed like the entire pub was staring at them now, everyone suddenly very quiet. Skeeter watched Harry, opening her bag and pulling out a notebook and the same acid-green quill that Bryt had seen her using after the first task.

"How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid _you_ know, Harry? The—"

"Oh shut up already, y'old cow!" Bryt snapped, shaking off Ron's hand and jumping to her feet, her hands gripped into fists and her face red with anger, "We all know yeh'll jus' twist Harry's words! Y'don' care abou' the truth, jus' a story full of lies! Yer even goin' after Ludo Bagman—"

"Sit down, you silly little girl," Skeeter snapped, turning her gaze to Bryt, "And don't talk about things you don't understand. I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair stand on end..._not_ that it needs it." Skeeter stared at Bryt's shortly cropped hair in detest.

Bryt opened her mouth to retort, gripping her arm tighter and about to swing her fist at Skeeter, but Ron had took Bryt around the waist, starting to pull her off. Bryt struggled at first, but Ron kept his grip strong, so Bryt soon gave up, allowing Ron to lead her out of the Three Broomsticks with Harry and Hermione, though Bryt was still fuming.

"She'll be after you next, Bryt," Ron whispered anxiously.

"I don' care," Bryt hissed, though she didn't pull away from Ron, "She's horrible. Y'shoulda lemme punch her. She deserves it."

"You don't want to go upsetting Rita Skeeter," Ron said, "I'm serious, Bryt. She'll dig up something on you—"

"I. Don'. Care," Bryt hissed again.

Even Hermione was riled up over what happened. She was several feet ahead of them, stomping through the snow, looking livid.

"Hagrid isn't hiding anymore!" she snapped ahead of them, "He should _never_ have let that excuse for a human being upset him! Come _on_!"

Hermione took off in a run and Bryt was quick to follow, breaking loose from Ron's grasp around her waist. She was in the same mind as Hermione. She wasn't going to allow Hagrid to keep sulking in his cabin and thought this was something they should have done long ago, no matter if Hagrid wanted to listen or not.

"Hagrid!" Hermione shouted as they reached the cabin and she started banging on the door, "Hagrid, that's enough! We know you're in there!"

"Yeah...no one cares...you're half-giant!" Bryt added her own voice to the yelling now, speaking through pants from her run.

"You can't let that foul Skeeter woman do this to you!" Hermione went on, "Hagrid, get out here, you're just being—"

The door opened then and Bryt and Hermione both chorused with "About time!", only to find they, Harry, and Ron, were facing Albus Dumbledore instead.

"Good afternoon," he said, as if greeting old friends.

Bryt swallowed, unsure what to say. She had only been around Dumbledore on dire occasions before—except for the Yule Ball, but Bryt hadn't exactly talked with him then. To suddenly see him standing in Hagrid's doorway had taken her by surprise.

"We—er—we wanted to see Hagrid," Hermione spoke up, seeming just as uneasy as Bryt was.

"Yes, I assumed as much," Dumbledore said and Bryt could have sworn he looked a bit amused, "Why don't you come in?"

"Oh...um...okay," Hermione said slowly.

Bryt headed inside with her friends and looked around as Fang pounced happily on Harry, nearly knocking the boy on his back. Bryt would have laughed at that if she hadn't noticed Hagrid at his table right then. The man's hair looked even wilder than normal and his eyes were swollen and red, making it obvious that he had been crying. Bryt was immediately reminded of the year before with everything that had happened with Buckbeak.

"Hi, Hagrid," Harry spoke up, having gotten Fang to get off of him. Hagrid looked up at them.

"'Lo," he muttered.

"More tea, I think," Dumbledore said as he closed the door and pulled out his wand.

Bryt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down at the table as Dumbledore used his wand to magic up a tray with a pot of tea, cups, and a plate of cakes. Bryt ignored the tea placed in front of her, not in much of a mood to drink at the moment.

"Did you by any chance hear what Misses Granger and Watkins were shouting, Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked after a moment.

Hermione blushed and Bryt straightened herself up, feeling a bit awkward still about Dumbledore being there.

"Hermione, Bryt, Ron, and Harry still seem to want to know you," Dumbledore continued, giving a brief smile to the two girls, "Judging by the way they were attempting to break down the door."

"Of course we still want to know you!" Harry said suddenly, "You don't think anything that Skeeter cow—sorry, Professor," Harry hastily added, as if just remembering the headmaster was there.

"I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't any idea what you said, Harry," Dumbledore replied, starting up at the ceiling as he twiddled his thumbs. Bryt gave a nervous giggle and could have sworn Dumbledore grinned over at her in response.

"Er—right," Harry said slowly, turning back to Hagrid, "I just meant—Hagrid, how could you think we'd care what that—woman—wrote about you?"

"Living proof of what I've been telling you, Hagrid," Dumbledore spoke up again and Bryt noticed he had returned to staring at the ceiling, "I have shown you the letters from the countless parents who remember you from their own days here, telling me in no uncertain terms that if I sacked you, they would have something to say about it—"

Dumbledore looked away from the ceiling now, looking straight at Hagrid again.

"Really, Hagrid," he said, "If you're holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time. Not a week has passed since I became headmaster of this school when I haven't had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?"

"Yeh—yeh're not half-giant!"

"Hagrid, look what I've got for relatives!" Harry said loudly, "Look at the Dursleys!"

"An excellent point," Dumbledore said with a small nod, "My own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practicing inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I'm not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery..."

Bryt stared at Dumbledore in confusion, surprised he was talking to openly about a member of his family in front of four of his students.

"Come back and teach, Hagrid," Hermione spoke up quietly, "Please come back, we really miss you."

Hagrid stared at them, large tears rolling down his face as Dumbledore stood up.

"I refuse to accept your resignation, Hagrid, and I expect you back at work on Monday. You will join me for breakfast at eight-thirty in the Great Hall. No excuses. Good afternoon to you all."

The second Dumbledore was out the door, Hagrid began crying harder. Bryt moved over, patting the large man on the arm as they waited for Hagrid to settle down. When he finally did, he looked up, his eyes looking even redder than before.

"Great man, Dumbledore...great man..."

"Yeah, he is," Ron said, "Can I have one of these cakes, Hagrid?"

Bryt glared over at Ron, wondering how he could be thinking of food when Hagrid was so upset.

"Help yerself," Hagrid said, "Ar, he's righ', o' course—yeh're all righ'...I bin stupid...my ol' dad woulda bin ashamed o' the way I've bin behavin'..." Hagrid teared up again, but he wiped them away quickly. "Never shown you a picture of my old dad, have I? Here..."

Bryt sat back down between Hermione and Ron as Hagrid got up. He went over towards his dresser and rummaged through the drawers for a second before coming back with a picture that he handed over to the quartet.

Hagrid was obviously younger in this picture, looking maybe ten or eleven, but was still at least seven feet tall and was holding a short wizard up on one of his massive shoulders.

"Tha' was taken jus' after I got inter Hogwarts," Hagrid said, "Dad was dead chuffed...thought I migh' not be a wizard, see, 'cos of me mum...well, anyway. 'Course, I never was great shakes at magic, really...but at least he never saw me expelled. Died, see, in me second year...

"Dumbledore was the one who stuck up for me after Dad went. Got me the gamekeeper job...trusts people, he does. Gives 'em second chances...tha's what sets him apar' from other Heads, see. He'll accept anyone at Hogwarts, s'long as they've got the talent. Knows people can turn out okay even if their families weren'...well...all tha' respectable. But some don' understand that. There's some who'd always hold it against yeh...there's some who'd even pretend they just have big bones rather than stand up an' say—I am what I am, an' I'm not ashamed. 'Never be ashamed,' my ol' dad used ter stay, 'there's some who'll hold it against you, but they're not worth botherin' with.' An' he's right. I've bin an idiot. I'm not botherin' with _her_ no more, I promise yeh that. Big bones...I'll give her big bones."

Bryt shifted nervously in her seat and looked at her friends, unsure what to say. She didn't really like the idea of letting Hagrid know they knew about his conversation with Maxime. Luckily, they didn't have a chance as Hagrid kept talking.

"Yeh know wha', Harry?" he asked, looking from his photo to Harry, "When I firs' met you, you reminded me o' me a bit. Mum and Dad gone, an' you was feelin' like yeh wouldn' fit in at Hogwarts, remember? Not sure yeh were really up to it...an' now look at yeh, Harry! School champion!"

Hagrid grinned, then his expression turned serious.

"Yeh know what I'd love, Harry?" Hagrid went on, "I'd love yeh ter win, I really would. It'd show 'em all...yeh don' have ter be pureblood ter do it. Yeh don' have ter be ashamed of what yeh are. It'd show 'em Dumbledore's the one who's got it righ', lettin' anyone in as long as they can do magic. How you doin' with that egg, Harry?"

"Great. Really great," Harry replied.

"Tha's my boy," Hagrid said with a bright grin, "You show 'em, Harry, you show 'em. Beat 'em all."

Bryt grinned, glad to see Hagrid's mood had improved. The four stayed with Hagrid for most of the afternoon, enjoying his company. When Bryt and Ron admitted that they were now dating, Hagrid had beamed at them, telling them congratulations and good luck.

The four stayed until nearly dinnertime before heading back up to the castle, in much better moods than they had been earlier. They had Hagrid back.


	30. Task in the Lake

Bryt had been looking forward to Charms class that following Thursday. They were going to start working on repelling charms and Bryt had thought she would do well with them since she had picked up easily on summoning charms.

This didn't turn out truthful, though. Even though Bryt easily sent the cushions flying across the room, she could not make them land in the box Flitwick wanted them to aim for. She wasn't the only one having trouble. Everyone was sending cushions flying in all directions across the room and talking excitedly with their classmates, some trying to show off and out-do others.

_'Oh well,'_ Bryt thought, sending a cushion thumping into one of the windows, _'If I'm ever somewhere were I need to get somethin' away from me fast, I doubt I'll be botherin' with tryin' to get it in a specific spot.'_

Plus, Bryt had something more important to focus on right now. She, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were grouped in the back of the classroom where Harry had just told them that he had sneaked to the prefects' bathroom the night before to work out the clue from his golden egg.

"You said you'd already worked out that egg clue!" Hermione said.

"Keep your voice down!" Harry whispered, "I just need to—sort of fine-tune it, all right?"

"And you had to take it to a bathroom in the middle of the night to do that?" Bryt asked, wondering what had possessed him to do something like that.

"Just forget about the egg for a minute, all right?" Harry lowered his voice, "That's not important. I need to tell you about Snape and Moody..."

"What about 'em?" Bryt asked, confused.

Harry glanced around again, wanting to make sure that no one was listening in. Bryt knew they weren't. Not with how loud this class was today. Once sure it was safe, Harry turned back to them and began explaining how the night before, he had gone to the prefects' bathroom to work out the egg's clue, as he could only understand what it was saying while underwater. When he was on his way back to the common room, he had noticed on his map that Barty Crouch was in Snape's office. Before anyone could comment, Harry went on, saying that he ran into Snape, Filch, and Moody. Apparently, Dumbledore wanted Moody to keep an eye out for trouble, and had even searched Snape's office earlier that year.

"Snape said Moody's searched his office as well?" Ron asked, his eyes widening as he sent a cushion flying across the room and barely missing hitting Parvati in the back of the head, "What...d'you reckon Moody's here to keep an eye on Snape as well as Karkaroff?"

"Well, I dunno if that's what Dumbledore asked him to do, but he's definitely doing it," Harry replied, "Moody said Dumbledore only lets Snape stay here because he's giving him a second chance or something..."

"Think Moody's thinkin' Snape put your name in the Goblet of Fire?" Bryt asked, waving her wand and sending her cushion flying forward and hitting Seamus in the back of the head. The boy turned around with a glare and Bryt gave him an apologetic grin.

Hermione sighed, though she waited until Seamus turned away again before she spoke up.

"We thought Snape was trying to kill Harry before," she said quietly, sending a cushion to land perfectly in the box they were supposed to be aiming for, "And it turned out he was saving Harry's life, remember?"

"Moody still seems to think somethin's up with Snape," Bryt pointed out.

"I don't care what Moody says. Dumbledore's not stupid. He was right to trust Hagrid and Professor Lupin, even though loads of people wouldn't have given them jobs, so why shouldn't he be right about Snape, even if Snape is a bit—"

"Evil," Ron finished, "Come on, Hermione, why are all these Dark wizard catchers searching his office, then?"

"What was Mr. Crouch doin' in Snape's office anyway?" Bryt asked, "I thought he was too sick to leave his house. How's he able to get up and sneak into Hogwarts to break into a teacher's office?"

"I'd like to know that myself," Hermione said, sending another cushion into the box they were aiming for.

"You two just don't like Crouch because of that elf, Winky," Ron said and Bryt glared at him.

"_You_ just want Snape to be up to something," Hermione shot back.

"I just want to know what Snape did with his first chance, if he's on his second one."

Bryt looked over at Harry, agreeing with him. Snape had to have done something bad to be on his second chance and Bryt wanted to know what it was.

They didn't have much time to think about it, however. Harry had also told them that the second task would be trying to retrieve something from the mermaids in the lake, and they only had an hour to do so. So now the quartet began, once again, spending as much time as possible in the library to try and find a way for Harry to spend an hour underwater.

"Maybe some type of potion?" Ron had asked one afternoon, looking directly at Bryt, "You've probably read every book on potions in this school, Bryt. There has to be one, right?"

Bryt sighed, flipping the page of her book.

"Not that I know of," she said, "I've checked, trust me. I don't remember readin' anythin' even close, except a misused Polyjuice Potion with like a fish scale or somethin', and we all know how badly that can turn out."

"Thanks for that reminder, Bryt," Hermione said, her face turning pink, "Though, truthfully, the ideal solution _would_ be a Transfiguration. Maybe into a submarine or something. If only we'd done human Transfiguration already! But I don't think we start that until sixth year, and it can go badly wrong if you don't know what you're doing..."

"Yeah, I don't fancy walking around with a periscope sticking out of my head," Harry said and Bryt giggled at both the mental image and the confused look Ron gave the two.

"I suppose I could always attack someone in front of Moody," Harry went on, "He might do it for me..."

"Except Moody won't let you choose what he turns you into," Bryt pointed out.

So the four continued looking, every free second spent in the dimly lit library. As the task came barely two weeks away, the four even began to skip their lunch time to get more searching time in. The Monday before the task, Harry seemed to stop eating all together.

Bryt was just about to insist Harry needed to eat when Joey had arrived with a reply from Sirius—as Harry had written to him nearly a month ago about what he had overheard the night he worked out the egg's clue.

Harry looked confused as he turned the parchment over and Bryt noticed only one sentence had been written on it: _Send date of next Hogsmeade weekend by return owl._

"Weekend after next," Hermione said, having read the note over Harry's shoulder, "Here—take my quill and Joey back straight away."

Harry wrote down the date and tied it back to Joey's leg. Bryt gave her owl a piece of bacon and petted him a couple of times before sending him off again.

"What's he want to know about the next Hogsmeade weekend for?" Ron asked.

"Dunno," Harry said, "Come on...Care of Magical Creatures."

As they started down to class, Bryt felt her stomach squirming as a sudden thought came to her. What if Sirius was going to try and meet them in Hogsmeade? After all, he had come back to Britain when Harry had said his scar had hurt during the summer. Now that Sirius had been told about Mr. Crouch breaking into Snape's office, and that Moody had searched Snape's office as well, it seemed he wanted to meet up them in person.

_'I hope he doesn't get caught...'_ Bryt thought, the all-too-familiar jab of guilt going through her. She tried to push the thoughts back, hoping Care of Magical Creatures would help distract her. She doubted it, though. They were still studying unicorns and Bryt was finding the lessons a little dull after nearly a month of the same creature. At least the Blast-Ended Skrewts had been entertaining.

**xxxxx**

The evening before the task, the four still hadn't found a way for Harry to survive an hour underwater and were becoming more and more desperate in their search.

"I don't reckon it can be done," Ron said, his voice strained, "There's nothing. _Nothing_. Closest was that thing to dry up puddles and ponds, that Drought Charm, but that was nowhere near powerful enough to drain the lake."

"There must be something," Hermione said, her face barely an inch from the book she was reading, "They'd never have set a task that was undoable."

"I know, there's got to be _somethin'_," Bryt said, running her hands on her temples to try and rid the headache she was getting from reading for so long in the dimming light, "Anythin'...I mean, for these witches and wizards to have compiled all the information on water creatures, they would have had to have some way to study them. They'd have to have spent hours underwater. There's got to be somethin' in one of these books..."

"Oh this is no use," Hermione said, shutting the book she had, "Who on earth would want to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?"

"I wouldn't mind," Fred said as he and George came up, "Be a talking point, wouldn't it?"

"What're you two doing here?" Ron asked.

"Looking for you," George replied, "McGonagall wants you, Ron."

"Why?" Bryt and Ron asked together.

"Dunno...she was looking a bit grim," Fred said.

"We're supposed to take you down to her office," George added.

Ron glanced around at them and Bryt leaned over, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

"Head on, we'll meet back with you in the common room later," she said.

Ron nodded, looking worried as he headed off with his brothers. Bryt couldn't blame him. She couldn't imagine what McGonagall wanted with him. At first, she wondered if it had to do with them helping Harry prepare for the task, but that couldn't have been it. If it was, she would have called for Bryt and Hermione as well.

At eight, Madam Pince shooed Bryt, Hermione, and Harry from the library. The three headed to the Gryffindor Tower, all of them carrying as many books as they could. They found an empty table in one corner of the room and spread out the books around them and began working again, though Bryt kept constantly glancing towards the entrance for Ron.

She knew Ron couldn't be in trouble. After all, for the past month, the four of them had been around each other all day long, either in class or in the library to help Harry. It couldn't be a family matter, either. Fred, George, and Ginny were all in the common room and seemed perfectly happy.

_'He'll be back soon enough,'_ Bryt told herself, leaning down closer over her book, squinting at the words on it. She had been reading so much and was becoming so tired that the words kept blurring together and her back was beginning to hurt from bending over so long. But she had to keep going. It could be any book now that would be the thing to help Harry out on the task the next day...

"Bryt, Hermione, get up."

Bryt groaned, blinking and finding herself staring down at a blur of tan and black. She blinked again and lifted her head slightly, the words on the parchment suddenly coming into focus.

"Oh no!" Hermione groaned.

Bryt jerked her head on up and looked around. The common room was deserted save for her, Ginny—who had been the one to wake her up, standing on the other end of the table—and Hermione, who was staring at her watch. Bryt looked down at her own watch and groaned herself. It was nine o'clock in the morning. The second task would be starting in half an hour.

"It's a good thing I decided to come back up here and check on you," Ginny said and Bryt noticed she was holding a handful of toast, "Everyone's heading down to the lake already."

"Have you seen Harry or Ron?" Bryt asked, pushing herself up. How could she and Hermione have both fallen asleep? And why didn't Harry wake them?

Ginny shook her head. "I haven't seen either today," she said.

"Maybe they're already down by the lake," Hermione said, standing up herself.

"And hopefully Harry found a way to get through this," Bryt added.

Bryt and Hermione accepted the toast from Ginny and started down through the castle. Ginny explained that, much like before the first task, Dumbledore announced to the school during breakfast what would happen during the second task. Bryt only half-listened as they reached the castle grounds as she kept looking for Ron among the crowds.

When they got closer, Bryt looked over to the judges' table. She was surprised to see Percy there instead of Mr. Crouch.

_'Thought he'd be here if he was well enough to go through Snape's cabinet last month,'_ she thought.

"I don't see Harry," Hermione said worriedly.

Bryt followed Hermione's gaze over towards the champions. She noticed Krum, Delacour, and Diggory standing near the judges' table, all three wearing swimwear. Like Hermione had said, Harry wasn't with them.

"I wonder where he is..." Bryt said as she followed Hermione and Ginny towards the stands before finding a place to sit down, Bryt making sure to save a place for Ron—whenever it was he would finally he show up.

Nine-twenty came and neither Harry nor Ron had shown up yet. Bryt started worrying even more, slipping her bracelet off her wrist and gripping it in her hands, running her thumbs over the rough stones.

Nine-twenty-five. Only five minutes left until the challenge started. Bryt was beginning to believe that Harry and Ron wouldn't show up at all when she suddenly noticed Harry running towards the judges' table, still fully dressed and wearing his school robes. Once he reached the group, he bent over, hands on his knees, seeming to be out of breath.

_'But where's Ron?'_ Bryt thought anxiously, looking around her.

"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle," Ludo Bagman's voice boomed from the other side of the lake, where the champions were spaced several feet apart from each other, "They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One...two..._three_!"

From across the lake, it was hard to see what Krum, Diggory, and Delacour did to breathe underwater, and they were all very quick to disappear beneath the surface of the water. Harry, however, seemed to be pulling off his shoes, shoved something into his mouth, and moved slowly into the water, seeming to just stand there.

"What's he doin'?" Bryt asked, trying to ignore the laughter starting to ripple through the stands.

"It looked like he ate something," Ginny said.

Harry suddenly put his hands to his throat and, a second later, flung himself forward, disappearing beneath the surface of the lake. Whatever it was that Harry did seemed to be working. Now, they had nothing to do but to wait for an hour.

"I wonder why Ron ain't here," Bryt said after a moment, looking around again. It wasn't like him to miss out on seeing Harry through the second task. Bryt couldn't help but wonder if it had to do with what McGonagall had called Ron for the night before.

Then a realization hit Bryt and she felt her blood run cold at the thought and seemed as if the breath had been knocked out of her. She gripped her bracelet tighter in her hands as she stared down at the lake, swallowing hard, trying to push back the fear rising through her.

_'What if _Ron _is what Harry has to retrieve from the merpeople?'_ Bryt thought. She would have asked this out loud, but she didn't want to with Ginny sitting on the other side of Hermione. She didn't want to worry the girl more by making her think that her brother was being held at the bottom of the lake.

But this also meant that if Harry didn't complete the task in an hour, Ron would...

_'No,'_ Bryt thought, swallowing down her nausea. Dumbledore wouldn't allow for any student to die, no matter what. Besides, they had made these challenges so no one would get killed. It was supposed to be safe. Ron would be fine. The time limit was probably set in place only to make sure the champions didn't take too long.

Still, even with her convincing herself that her friends would be fine, Bryt couldn't help but worry. She bit down on her tongue to keep herself from rambling, because she knew she'd start voicing her fears and didn't want to worry Ginny needlessly.

Everyone around them were beginning to talk now. Bryt tuned them out, keeping her focus on the lake in front of her. The noise of the crowd just echoed around Bryt in an odd buzz. She wasn't even sure if Hermione or Ginny tried talking to her at all over the next hour, her mind focused intently on spotting her friends breaking the surface of the lake. She knew she wouldn't be able to think about anything until she was sure Ron and Harry were safe.

After what felt like an eternity, Ludo Bagman announced that the hour had passed, but still none of the champions had come back. Bryt swallowed hard again, her hands going numb from gripping her bracelet tightly for the past hour, but she didn't let go, continuing to rub her thumbs over the stone.

_'They're fine. The hour was only an estimate. Nothin'll happen to them.'_

A moment later, someone came up, though alone. The long, silvery hair told Bryt it was Delacour. She looked panicked as she swam towards the shore and Madam Pomfrey met her, pulling her into piles of blankets.

No sooner was Delacour on land, two people suddenly broke the surface of the lake. Bryt leaned up as cheering went through the crowd, but sunk back in disappointment as she realized it wasn't Harry and Ron. By the long black hair, Bryt figured it was Diggory and Cho Chang. It figured Diggory's hostage would have been his girlfriend. They seemed to just reach the shore when Madam Pomfrey rushed towards them with blankets.

Krum surfaced a few minutes later with his hostage, who seemed to be a blonde girl, most likely the Ravenclaw that Krum had gone to the Yule Ball with. Again, Bryt was disappointed that it wasn't Harry and Ron.

"What's takin' you so long, Harry?" Bryt muttered, still gripping her bracelet so tightly that Bryt had a feeling the marks would stay on her hands for hours at least.

Bryt's stomach was churning more from her nerves. She was becoming increasingly more grateful that all she had eaten for breakfast was the toast Ginny had given her. She was sure if she had eaten anything more, she wouldn't be able to hold it down.

Finally, three people came to the surface, and Bryt knew they were Harry, Ron, and probably the person Delacour had been sent to save. Along with the three, dozens of creatures that Bryt assumed to be the mermaids of the lake were surfacing as well.

"Finally," Bryt breathed a sigh of relief as she pushed herself to her feet and slipped her bracelet back over her wrist.

Everyone around her were getting to their feet, too, cheering loudly. Bryt didn't join in, instead starting to push her way through the crowd, not looking to see if Hermione or Ginny followed her. She made her way around the edge of the lake towards where Harry and Ron were, ignoring the looks she gained from the judges and champions.

"Thank God you two are okay," Bryt said in relief, hugging both of them, then kissing Ron, which caused the boy's face to flush red.

"We're fine, Bryt," he muttered. Bryt just grinned and hugged him again, then tightened the blankets around him again since they had fallen loose. Ron protested about it, but Bryt didn't care. It was such a relief to know her friends were okay. She knew they had to be—after all, Dumbledore wouldn't have allowed anyone to die in this tournament—but it was still great to have them in front of her, obviously alive.

"You did it, Harry!" Hermione ran up to them, hugging Harry quickly, "You found out how all by yourself!"

"Well—" Harry started, but stopped and glanced towards the judges. Bryt followed his gaze and noticed Karkaroff staring at them.

"Yeah, that's right," Harry continued, raising his voice. Bryt suddenly had the feeling that Harry had help finding a way to survive for an hour in the lake, but he wasn't going to admit it within earshot of Karkaroff. Bryt couldn't blame him. Bryt would just have to ask Harry about it later.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Ludo Bagman's voice rang through loudly, making Bryt jump as she looked over towards him, her hands still gripping Ron's blankets, "We have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows...

"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

"I deserved zero," Delacour said nearby, and Bryt couldn't help but agree. Delacour failed to do the one thing they were supposed to accomplish on their task, why was she awarded any points?

"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour." The Hufflepuffs in the crowd on the other side of the lake erupted into loud cheers. "We therefore award him forty-seven points.

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."

Loud applause echoed through the crowd again. Karkaroff looked very smug and Bryt rolled her eyes.

"Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect," Bagman went on and Bryt grinned over at her friend, "He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was the first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."

"Why ain't I surprised?" Bryt asked, patting Harry on the back. Harry grinned back, though he looked disappointed with himself.

"Most of the judges felt this shows moral fiber and merits full marks," Bagman glanced towards Karkaroff as he continued, "However...Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."

Bryt joined in the cheering, hugging Harry again. He was now tied in first place with Diggory. The only thing that could have been better was if Harry was in first place on his own.

"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June. The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you for your support of the champions."

Madam Pomfrey began leading the champions and their hostages towards the castle, and Bryt and Hermione followed along, Bryt staying close to Ron. The second task was now over and, now that Harry and Ron were safe, Bryt was looking forward to asking her friends what had happened in the lake.

_'And I won't have to worry about Harry gettin' through the third task until June twenty-fourth,'_ Bryt though, grinning.


	31. Skeeter's New Article

Bryt and Hermione wasted no time in asking Harry and Ron what had happened in the lake. So they were now sitting by the fireplace in the common room, where Harry was explaining what had happened earlier that day—Ron had said he didn't know. McGonagall had taken him to Dumbledore's office, where Dumbledore had said they would be fine and put him and the other three hostages into some type of enchanted sleep, only waking up after he came to the surface of the lake.

Harry explained everything in a low whisper, saying how after Hermione and Bryt had both fallen asleep over their books, he had gone to the library with his invisibility cloak to continue researching. Harry had fallen asleep himself, but Dobby woke him up and gave him the gillyweed he used.

Though he said that what happened under the lake was basically as Bagman had said. Harry had reached the hostages first, but wanted to make sure all four were rescued. Again, Harry looked embarrassed and disappointed in this, and Bryt elbowed Ron in the side when he said Harry shouldn't have taken the song seriously.

Bryt also learned that Delacour's hostage, that Harry had rescued, was Delacour's younger sister. This was something that made Bryt regret some of her harsh judgment of the tall, blonde girl. With her little sister as her hostage, it was obvious that Delacour cared a great deal for her family. Bryt couldn't help but think about how upset Delacour had been, and Bryt knew she would have been no different in the same situation and if it had been one of her brothers in the bottom of the lake.

_'Maybe Delacour isn't as bad as I first thought,'_ Bryt thought. Though she doubted she'd ever be friendly towards the girl, she could at least try to be nicer if they were ever around each other.

March brought with it harsh winds that made being outside rough and kept mail delayed as the violent winds kept blowing owls off course. This worried Bryt, as her owl was still out delivering the latest letter to Sirius.

To Bryt's relief, Joey returned on the first Friday of March. He seemed tired, and seemed to be missing some feathers, but he appeared to be otherwise unharmed. Bryt pet her owl and fed him some scraps from her breakfast, then let him fly off to the Owlery.

"He hasn't come back to Hogsmeade?" Ron asked and Bryt looked over, then down at Sirius's letter, which simply read:

_Be at stile end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can._

"It looks like it, doesn't it?" Hermione replied.

"I can't believe him," Harry said, "If he's caught..."

Guilt and dread was worming its way through Bryt as she tuned out her friends' conversation. All she could do was hope and pray that Sirius wouldn't be caught as she headed for double-Potions. The thought of meeting Sirius the next day did little to cheer Bryt up. She had a feeling seeing Sirius face-to-face would only be worse for her already-guilty conscience over what had happened last June.

Bryt's bad mood was worsened when they reached the Potions classroom and found the Slytherins grouped together, laughing amongst themselves.

"There they are, there they are!" Parkinson giggled when she noticed the quartet approaching. Bryt glared at her, not liking the way Parkinson was grinning at them. Bryt noticed the girl was holding a copy of some magazine with the title _Witch Weekly_ on the cover.

"You might find something to interest you in there, Watkins!" Parkinson said, tossing the magazine over. Bryt caught it on instinct, turning to her friends and raising an eyebrow. They simply shrugged back, looking confused. Before Bryt could look through the magazine, Snape opened the classroom door, ordering everyone inside.

Bryt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione found a seat table in the back of the classroom as Snape turned to write the ingredients for today's potion on the board. Hermione took the magazine from Bryt then and flipped through it until they found the article that Parkinson was obviously talking about:

_HARRY POTTER'S SECRET HEARTACHE_

_A boy like no other, perhaps—yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence,_ writes Rite Skeeter. _Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggleborn Bryttanie "Bryt" Watkins. Little would he know this relationship would not be the one of dreams that he had hoped for._

_Miss Watkins, a short and overweight sort of girl, seems to think that one wizard is not enough for her. For months, Miss Watkins has been splitting her time between Harry Potter and their mutual friend, Ronald Weasley, and even once had a third boy earning her affections. Miss Watkins has openly flaunted her relationship with both of these boys in front of each other, obviously not caring that they know they aren't the only man in her life._

_The reason for this lies not in Miss Watkins's charms, but in something much more menacing._

"_She's a very violent girl," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "I've seen her hit her so-called 'boyfriends' several times since we started Hogwarts. She's even hit me before, for no reason at all."_

_Violence is, of course, against school rules within the walls at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that he will be brave enough to break contact with this obviously violent girl and, next time, bestow his heart on a worthier candidate._

Bryt snorted, snatching the magazine and shoving it into her bag before turning to her potion.

"I told you!" Ron whispered, "I told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you out to be some sort of—of violent scarlet woman!"

Bryt and Hermione both choked back laughs as they looked at Ron.

"Scarlet woman?" Hermione repeated.

"It's what my mum calls them," Ron muttered, going red.

Bryt giggled, shaking her head as she started cutting up the first ingredient for her potion.

"Skeeter can say whatever she wants about me," she said, "Anyone who matters knows the truth, and know better than to think I go punchin' people just for the hell of it." Bryt smirked at Harry. "Though if you feel the need to 'break contact' with me, I promise I won't hurt you."

Harry snorted this time. Unfortunately, it was just as Snape was walking past their table. Bryt suddenly felt grateful that she had shoved away the magazine in her bag after reading it. Though she didn't care about what the article had said about her, she was sure Snape would have made the situation a lot worse.

"I have grown tired of you four constantly talking during class," Snape said, looking between them, "Ten points will be taken from Gryffindor, and I believe it's time to separate you. Miss Watkins, you stay here. Miss Granger, over by Miss Parkinson. Weasley, by Mr. Malfoy, and Potter, that table in front of my desk. Move. Now."

Bryt chanced a glance with her friends as they gathered their things and headed for their new seats. Bryt went back to her work, crushing her beetles, but she glanced up towards Harry in the front of the classroom. Snape was bent forward at his desk, talking lowly to Harry and Bryt suddenly had the feeling that Snape planned to separate the four of them today, no matter what reason. She was going to have to ask Harry later what Snape had wanted.

Bryt kept her focus on her potion as the class stayed uninterrupted for only a few minutes when Karkaroff suddenly came in, heading straight for Snape. Bryt watched closely, but she knew she couldn't hear anything from across the room. Though even from her seat, she could tell Karkaroff seemed worried, and Snape was annoyed. After a short exchange, Karkaroff stepped back, but didn't stray far from Snape's desk for the rest of the class.

When the bell finally rang, Bryt hurried to gather her things. She glanced towards Harry just in time to see him knock over a bottle on his desk, then duck under the desk to clean up his mess. Bryt turned, heading from the classroom, then met up with Hermione and Ron.

"Harry's stayin' behind to clean up somethin'," Bryt said, "We should head on to lunch."

"Maybe he can eavesdrop on whatever Karkaroff and Snape are talking about," Ron said hopefully as the three started up the stairs towards the Great Hall, "Why do you think Karkaroff showed up in class anyway?"

"Maybe to make sure Snape does talk to him?" Bryt replied, "Either way, Harry'll probably find out and tell us soon enough."

It wasn't too long after the three sat down at the Gryffindor table for lunch that Harry came running over, dropping into the seat next to Hermione.

"Karkaroff is worried about something," Harry said in a whisper before any of the three could say anything, "He showed Snape something on his arm and he sounded worried about it."

"What d'you think it's about?" Bryt asked curiously.

"No idea," Harry whispered, "He said something weird, saying it had 'never been this clear'. What d'you think that means?"

"Whatever it is, Snape must know about it, too," Ron said, "I mean, why else would Karkaroff go to Snape about it?" A look of realization suddenly went over Ron's face. "What if this has to do what they were talking about during the Yule Ball, Harry?"

"What?" Bryt and Hermione asked.

"We overheard Snape and Karkaroff talking during the Yule Ball," Harry said, thinking back, "In fact, Karkaroff was talking about something becoming clearer then, too. He said he was getting worried about it, and Snape told him he could run if he wanted, but he was staying at Hogwarts."

"What do you think Karkaroff wants to run _from_?" Bryt asked.

Again, no one had any type of theory. This just confused Bryt more. She didn't like not having the answer to something like this. She had a feeling it was something big.

"Maybe Sirius'll know something?" Ron asked, "We can ask him tomorrow."

"Good idea," Harry said with a nod.

Bryt nodded herself, but she was still dreading the Hogsmeade visit tomorrow. On the one hand, it would be good to get out of the castle for a while, and to see Sirius again. But still, she knew seeing Sirius would only bring up Bryt's guilt more than usual. Bryt tried not to let her uneasiness show, however. After all, Hermione was the only one who knew of Bryt's inner struggle, and Bryt wanted to keep it like that. She didn't want to find out how Harry or Ron would react to the fact that Bryt could have stopped Wormtail, thus letting Sirius be free instead of a fugitive.

_'Why couldn't I have just gotten over my damn fear for five seconds?'_ Bryt thought, stabbing her fork hard into her baked potato. She had a feeling tomorrow was going to be difficult for her.

**xxxxx**

**A/N:** Just a quick note to wish my readers a safe and happy Halloween!


	32. A Meeting With Sirius

"Hermione, I told you, I don't want to talk about this right now," Bryt said for probably the fifth time that morning as she folded up her dress robes from the Yule Ball and placing them in a box. She knew Harry wanted to stop at Gladrags Wizardwear to get socks for Dobby, and Bryt thought it'd be a good time to sell her dress robes—after all, she'd never wear them again and it'd just be a waste to sit at the bottom of her trunk or in the back of her closet.

"You've been too quiet lately," Hermione went on as if Bryt hasn't said anything, "And you've been getting moody any time Sirius is brought up—"

"How can I not?" Bryt cut in irritably, "Every time we talk about him, I'm reminded how I coulda stopped Wormtail from escapin', that Sirius could be _free_ right now if I weren' so hung up on my fear of rats!"

"Bryt, you don't know that," Hermione said quietly, "Even if Wormtail didn't escape, there's no guarantee that Sirius would be able to go free."

"As you've said countless times before," Bryt said with an irritated huff of breath and flopped backwards across her bed, then mimicking Hermione's voice, "'Wormtail was desperate. He could have escaped again. Not to mention Black escaped from Azkaban and evaded Aurors. Even if he was found innocent, he would probably be sent back for those crimes.'"

"Glad to know you've actually heard me," Hermione said in an annoyed tone as she crossed her arms over her chest, "I just wish you'd _listen_ finally."

"Maybe he could have been pardoned for that stuff," Bryt shot back, "Considerin' he spent years in Azkaban before."

"And what about him breaking into Hogwarts? He destroyed the Fat Lady's portrait. He could very easily be sent back to Azkaban for those crimes."

"You don' know that," Bryt said shortly, finally pushing herself to her feet, "He coulda been freed."

Not wanting to argue further, Bryt headed off down the stairs to meet up with Harry and Ron, leaving her box on her bed since they weren't planning to go to Hogsmeade until after lunch. Neither boy was in the common room, so Bryt decided to head on down to breakfast, knowing if Hermione caught her in the common room, she'd try to start talking about Sirius again. In the crowded Great Hall, Bryt knew Hermione wouldn't dare bring up Bryt's guilt, so Bryt turned and headed out of the common room quickly.

For the first time, Bryt started to wonder if Hermione was right. Even if Bryt had managed to grab Wormtail, there was no guarantee that Sirius wouldn't have been sent right back to Azkaban for his escape, breaking into Hogwarts, and the countless rumored crimes he committed that had been in the _Daily Prophet_. Bryt knew from experience that 'justice' in the wizarding world was more about appearances and verdicts given by the richest or most powerful than what was actually right or wrong. Even if they had unmistakable evidence that Sirius was innocent, he would most likely be sent back to Azkaban anyway and given the Dementor's Kiss.

_'Doesn't change I could have stopped Wormtail,'_ Bryt thought sourly. Even if she did ever let herself believe Hermione in that catching Wormtail wouldn't have changed anything, that Sirius would have most likely been sent back to Azkaban anyway and that Wormtail would have found a way to escape again, it wouldn't have changed the fact that Bryt could have still done something to at least _try_ and stop it. No matter what reasoning Hermione tried to give Bryt, the guilt would always be there. It was something that Bryt would live with the rest of her life.

The Great Hall was already crowded when Bryt came in and she noticed as she got closer to the Gryffindor table that Harry and Ron were already there.

Bryt took a deep breath, trying to force her guilt to the back of her mind. After all, she didn't want Harry or Ron to start wondering if something was wrong. Making herself grin, Bryt headed off towards her friends for breakfast.

**xxxxx**

When the quartet left the castle at noon, Harry was carrying a bag full of food for Sirius while Bryt had the box with her dress robes. They decided their first stop would be Gladrags Wizardwear where Bryt sold her dressrobes, then the four spent the next hour and a half picking out socks for Dobby.

When it got closer to time for them to meet up with Sirius, the four headed off down High Street towards the edge of the town, beginning to pass stores less and less, coming across more private homes. They were met by a large, shaggy black dog at the end of the street, his tail wagging and an old copy of the _Daily Prophet_ in his mouth.

Harry greeted Sirius, and the man-turned-dog sniffed at Harry's bag before turning and trotting off, the four friends following behind. They were soon starting their way up a rocky slant upwards of a mountain, where all four of them occasionally slipped or lost footing, one of the others catching them before they fell.

At their slow progress, it seemed to take ages for them to finally reach the cave where Sirius was waiting, now in human form again. Bryt was grateful for the fact that the cave was cool, a welcome relief from their climb in the hot sun. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, Bryt noticed Buckbeak the hippogriff tethered to a large rock at the back of the cave. The four friends bowed, and when Buckbeak returned the bow, Bryt and Hermione hurried over to pet him.

As they did so, Bryt finally took in Sirius's appearance. He was still wearing the same near-ruin robes he had on when they first met and he looked just as ragged and thin as he did nearly a year ago.

_'He wouldn't be livin' like this if he were free,'_ Bryt thought, looking away again as Sirius eagerly went through the food that they brought. For a man to go for a few pieces of chicken legs as if it were all the gold in the world was rough enough to watch. To know Bryt could have kept this from happening was even worse.

_'Maybe Hermione's right and this would have happened either way. At least with Sirius still on the run instead of sent back to Azkaban, Harry can stay in contact with him.'_ Bryt thought, trying to ease her guilt. It didn't work in the slightest.

"What're you doing here, Sirius?" Harry asked and, even though Bryt was listening, she couldn't bring herself to look at Sirius. Instead, she kept her gaze on Buckbeak as she pet the beautiful creature. She caught sight of Hermione watching her from the other side of Buckbeak, but the girl didn't say anything, which Bryt was grateful for.

"Fulfilling my duty as godfather," Sirius said simply, "Don't worry about it, I'm pretending to be a loveable stray."

_'Not much of a life,'_ Bryt thought weakly, _'All because of me.'_

"I want to be on the spot," Sirius said, his tone more serious now. Bryt chanced a glance and noticed him watching Harry, "Your last letter...well, let's just say things are getting fishier. I've been stealing the paper every time someone throws one out, and by the looks of things, I'm not the only one who's getting worried."

"I subscribe to the _Daily Prophet_," Bryt spoke up, keeping her attention to Buckbeak, "I've been curious about what Crouch is up to. After all, the paper says he hasn't been seen in months, and is apparently ill. Ron's brother, Percy, says he's been sending in notes on what needs to get done. But if that's true, how did Crouch manage to get up to Hogwarts just fine to break into Snape's office?"

"Though he _did_ look ill, last time I saw him up close," Harry said slowly, "The night my name came out of the goblet."

"His own fault," Bryt said irritably, "Bet he's regrettin' firin' Winky. Not that he treated her that well to begin with."

"Crouch sacked his house elf?" Sirius asked, and Bryt wished he wouldn't stare over at her. She just hoped the guilt she kept feeling wasn't showing on her face as she forced herself to look at Sirius again as she nodded.

"After the Quidditch World Cup," Bryt said, but before she could go on, Harry cut in with a quick explanation of the Dark Mark appearing, and Winky found unconscious with Harry's wand. Throughout the explanation, Sirius kept pacing around the cave, so Bryt turned her attention back to Buckbeak.

"Let me get this straight," Sirius said, "You first saw the elf in the Top Box. She was saving Crouch a seat, right?"

"Right."

"But Crouch didn't turn up for the match?"

"No," Bryt hissed, "He knew Winky's terrified of heights, but sent her up anyway. And didn' even have the decency t'show up like he said he was."

"Harry," Sirius said, seeming to ignore Bryt's rant as he turned to his godson, "Did you check your pockets for your wand after you'd left the Top Box?"

Harry stayed silent for a moment, thinking it over.

"No," he said, "I didn't need to use it before we got into the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was there were my Omnioculars." A look of realization suddenly crossed Harry's face. "Are you saying whoever conjured the Mark stole my wand in the Top Box?"

"It's possible."

"It couldn't have been Winky!" Bryt and Hermione said instantly.

"The elf wasn't the only one in that box," Sirius said, and Bryt could hear that he was still pacing around the cave, "Who else was sitting behind you?"

"Loads of people. Some Bulgarian ministers...Cornelius Fudge...The Malfoys..."

"The Malfoys!" Ron said suddenly, causing Bryt to jump, "I bet it was Lucius Malfoy!"

"I dunno," Bryt said, though she wished it would have been him, just to have something on the slimy git, "You and Harry said that Draco Malfoy practically told you his father was one of the masked men terrorizin' the camp, remember? That meant he was one of the ones who ran away when the Mark was conjured."

"Who else was there?" Sirius asked.

"No one."

"Yes, there was also Ludo Bagman," Hermione spoke up.

"I don't know anything about Bagman except that he used to be Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps," Sirius said slowly, "What's he like?"

"He's okay," Harry replied, "He keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament."

"Does he, now? I wonder why he'd do that?"

"Says he's taken a liking to me."

"I don't think it was Bagman," Bryt said slowly, "He seemed like he was in shock when he showed up after the Mark appeared. He was barely aware of anythin' around him. I doubt he'd be any more guilty than Winky is."

Ron muttered something, but Sirius cut him off.

"When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Harry's wand, what did Crouch do?"

_'Wish he'd stop callin' her 'the elf','_ Bryt thought, glancing quickly to Sirius, who was still pacing, _'She has a name, after all.'_

"Went to look in the bushes," Harry said, "But there wasn't anyone else there."

"Of course, he'd want to pin it on anyone but his own elf...And then he sacked her?"

"Jus' like that," Bryt said hotly.

"Just because she hadn't stayed in her tent and let herself get trampled—" Hermione went on.

"Give it a rest with the elf!" Ron snapped.

"Her name's _Winky_!" Bryt shot back, glaring at her boyfriend.

"They've got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron," Sirius said, "If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals."

Bryt glanced at Sirius for a second before looking back at Buckbeak. Her guilt was still worming through her, but the more they talked, the more she was able to push it to the back of her mind. Bryt hoped this meant dealing with the guilt would become easier over time, though she still knew it'd never go away completely.

"All these absences of Barty Crouch's..." Sirius said thoughtfully, "He goes through the trouble of making sure his house elf saves him a seat at the Quidditch World Cup, but doesn't bother to turn up and watch. He works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and then stops coming to that to...It's not like Crouch. If he's ever taken a day off work because of illness before this, I'll eat Buckbeak."

"D'you know Crouch, then?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I know Crouch all right," Sirius replied, his voice a bit quieter now, "He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban—without a trial."

"_What?_" the quartet asked in shock. Bryt knew that the wizarding world's justice wasn't exactly fair, but she still thought that trials were put on—even if just for show, like with Buckbeak's the year before.

"Crouch used to be the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn't you know?" Sirius asked around a mouthful of chicken, "He was tipped for the next Minister of Magic. He's a great wizard, Barty Crouch, powerfully magical—and power-hungry."

Bryt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged a look, all obviously thinking this personality made a perfect combination for a Death Eater.

"Oh never a Voldemort supporter," Sirius went on and Ron winced at the name, "No, Barty Crouch was always very outspoken against the Dark Side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark Side...well, you wouldn't understand...You're too young."

Bryt huffed in annoyance. What was with adults and thinking anyone under the age of twenty were 'too young' to know certain things?

"That's what my dad said at the World Cup," Ron said irritably, "Try us, won't you?"

Sirius started grinning, as if he were hoping for one of them to insist on knowing.

"All right, I'll try you..." He said, pacing a bit more as Bryt turned her attention fully to Sirius in anticipation, "Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him and who isn't; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves."

Bryt shuddered, thinking about their lessons to fight off the Imperius Curse, how the curse made her so _willing_ to do whatever she was told and the blissful feeling it had given her.

"You're scared for yourself," Sirius went on, "Your family, your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing...The Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere...panic...confusion...that's how it used to be."

Bryt thought about the times over the past few years when she had been terrified for her friends' safety during their various adventures, or even just in this past year with Harry in the Triwizard Tournament, and tried to imagine what it would be like living through that terror every single day. She also remembered Mr. Weasley telling them about the terror and worry of coming home to find the Dark Mark floating over their home, to know a family member was now dead...Bryt closed her eyes, swallowing hard. She couldn't imagine living like that, let alone making it through that war and staying sane.

"Well, times like that bring out the best in some people and the worst in others," Sirius said, "Crouch's principles might've been good in the beginning—I wouldn't know. He rose quickly through the Ministry, and he started ordering very harsh measures against Voldemort's supporters. The Aurors were given new powers—powers to kill rather than capture, for instance. And I wasn't the only one who was handed straight to the dementors without trial. Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorized the use of Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark Side."

Bryt started to ask how Crouch could do something like that and still consider himself to be against Voldemort, but she stopped herself. Somehow, it felt wrong to interrupt Sirius now. There was something about how quietly Sirius was talking, how Bryt and her friends were practically unmoving while they watched him, almost to the point of holding their breaths, that pressed an unspoken level of seriousness around them that Bryt couldn't remember ever feeling before.

"He had supporters, mind you," Sirius went on, "Plenty of people thought he was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamoring for him to take over as Minister of Magic. When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time until Crouch got the top job. But then something rather unfortunate happened...Crouch's own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters who'd manage to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power."

Sirius paused to take another bight of chicken as he let the four slowly digest what he had said so far.

"Crouch's _son_ was caught?" Hermione asked in surprise. Bryt started thinking about the night in the woods during the World Cup...how Crouch had seemed so horrified at the idea of Winky being found with Harry's wand and suddenly realized he must have been remembering the years before with his own son.

"Yep. Nasty little shock for old Barty, I'd imagine. Should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn't he? Ought to have left the office early once in a while...gotten to know his own son."

"_Was _his son a Death Eater?" Harry asked.

"No idea," Sirius said, tearing off a large chunk of bread and shoving it in his mouth, "I was in Azkaban myself when he was brought in. This is mostly stuff I've found out since I got out. The boy was definitely caught in the company of people I'd bet my life were Death Eaters—but he might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like the house elf."

"Did Crouch try and get his son off?" Hermione asked.

_'I doubt it,'_ Bryt thought, suddenly remembering Crouch's words to Mr. Diggory that night in the woods: _"I trust you remember the many proofs I've given over a long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them?"_

"Crouch let his son off?" Sirius said with a short, bark-like laugh, "I thought you had a measure of him, Hermione! Anything that threatened to tarnish his reputation had to go; he had dedicated his whole life to becoming Minister of Magic. You knew he dismissed a devoted house elf because she associated him with the Dark Mark again—doesn't that tell you what he's like? Crouch's fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn't much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy..then he sent him straight to Azkaban."

"He gave his own son to the dementors?" Harry whispered.

"That's right," Sirius said quietly, "I saw the dementors bring him in, watched them through the bars of my cell door. He can't have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though...they all go quiet in the end...except when they shrieked in their sleep..."

Bryt shuddered, closing her eyes and trying not to imagine what it had to be like for Sirius those twelve years he lost in Azkaban.

"So he's still in Azkaban?" Harry asked and Sirius looked at him, as if coming out of some type of daze.

"No," he said, "No, he's not in there anymore. He died about a year after they brought him in."

"He _died_?"

"He wasn't the only one. Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. They lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the dementors could sense it, they got excited. That boy looked pretty sickly when he arrived. Crouch being an important Ministry member, he and his wife were allowed a deathbed visit. That was the last time I saw Barty Crouch, half carrying his wife past my cell. She died herself, apparently, shortly afterward. Grief. Wasted away just like the boy. Crouch never came for his son's body. The dementors buried him outside the fortress; I watched them do so."

Bryt watched as Sirius took the flask of pumpkin juice and drained it in a few gulps, her mind still on Sirius's description of life in Azkaban. She couldn't imagine living like that every day, being around the dementors for years, and could understand why people went insane or simply gave up on life while there. It was a miracle that Sirius managed to survive twelve years of the place and came out with his mind still whole.

"So old Crouch lost it all, just when he thought he had it made," Sirius said when he finished the pumpkin juice, "One moment, a hero, poised to become Minister of Magic...Next, his son dead, his wife dead, the family name dishonored, and, so I've heard since I escaped, a big drop in popularity. Once the boy had died, people started feeling a bit more sympathetic toward the son and started asking how a nice young lad from a good family had gone so badly astray. The conclusion was that his father never cared much for him. So Cornelius Fudge got the top job, and Crouch was shunted sideways to the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

Silence fell over the group and Bryt tried to imagine how it had been for Crouch. To have everything, only to lose it all in one short year. In a way, she felt sorry for him for all he went through. At the same time, however, she felt he might have deserved how his life turned out due to the corrupt way he tried to win the war and how he turned his back on his son, and later his house elf, simply for being associated with the Dark Side, without bothering to learn if they were truly innocent or not.

"Moody says Crouch is obsessed with catching Dark wizards," Harry said after a while.

"Yeah, I've heard it's become a bit of a mania with him," Sirius said with a nod, "If you ask me, he still thinks he can bring back the old popularity by catching one more Death Eater."

"And he sneaked up here to search Snape's office!" Ron said.

"Yes, and that doesn't make sense at all," Sirius said.

"Why not?" Bryt asked, confused.

"Listen, if Crouch wants to investigate Snape, why hasn't he been coming to judge the tournament? It would be an ideal excuse to make regular visits to Hogwarts and keep an eye on him."

"So you think Snape could be up to something, then?" Harry asked.

"Look," Hermione cut in before Sirius could reply, "I don't care what you say, Dumbledore trusts Snape—"

"Hermione, Dumbledore's a great wizard, but he's still human," Bryt pointed out, "He could still make mistakes, just like anyone else."

"Why did Snape save Harry's life in the first year, then? Why didn't he just let him die?"

"I dunno," Ron joined the conversation now, "Maybe he thought Dumbledore would kick him out—"

"Why d'you think, Sirius?" Harry cut in, looking at his godfather.

"I think all three have a point," Sirius said, looking between Bryt, Ron, and Hermione, and Bryt couldn't bring herself to keep eye contact, turning her attention to Buckbeak again, "Ever since I found out Snape was teaching here, I've wondered why Dumbledore hired him. Snape's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was. Snape knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year, and he was part of a gang of Slytherins who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters." Sirius started counting off names with his fingers as he went one. "Rosier and Wilkes—they were both killed by Aurors the year before Voldemort fell. The Lestranges—they're a married couple—they're in Azkaban. Avery—from what I've heard he wormed his way out of trouble by saying he'd been under the Imperius Curse—he's still at large. But as far as I know, Snape was never even accused of being a Death Eater—not that that means much. Plenty of them were never caught. And Snape's certainly clever and cunning enough to keep himself out of trouble."

"Snape knows Karkaroff pretty well, but wants to keep that quiet," Ron said.

"Yeah, you should've seen Snape's face when Karkaroff turned up in Potions yesterday!" Harry said, "Karkaroff wanted to talk to Snape, he says Snape's been avoiding him. Karkaroff looked really worried. He showed Snape something on his arm, but I couldn't see what it was."

"He showed Snape something on his arm?" Sirius asked, staring at Ron in surprise, then shrugged, "Well, I've got no idea what that's about...But if Karkaroff's genuinely worried, and he's going to Snape for answers...There's still the fact that Dumbledore trusts Snape, and I know Dumbledore trusts where a lot of other people wouldn't, but I just can't see him letting Snape teach at Hogwarts if he'd ever worked for Voldemort."

"Why are Moody and Crouch so keen to get into Snape's office, then?" Ron asked.

"Well, I wouldn't put it past Mad-Eye to have searched every single teacher's office when he got to Hogwarts. He takes his Defense Against the Dark Arts seriously, Moody."

_'Obviously, with the way he teaches class,'_ Bryt thought, again thinking about them being taught to resist the Imperius Curse.

"I'm not sure _he_ trusts anyone at all," Sirius went on, "And after the things he's seen, it's not surprising. I'll say this for Moody, though, he never killed if he could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. He was tough, but he never descended to the level of the Death Eaters. Crouch, though...he's a different matter...Is he really ill? If he is, why did he make the effort to drag himself up to Snape's office? And if he's not..what's he up to? What was he doing at the World Cup that was so important he didn't turn up in the Top Box? What's he been doing while he should have been judging the tournament?"

Sirius fell silent and Bryt turned to watch him, wondering what he was thinking about. After several moments, Sirius turned back to Ron.

"Your brother's Crouch's personal assistant, right? Any chance you could ask him if he's seen Crouch lately?"

"I can try," Ron said, though he didn't sound like he expected to have much luck, "Better not to make it sound like I reckon Crouch is up to anything dodgy, though. Percy loves Crouch."

"And you might try and find out whether they've got any leads on Bertha Jorkins while you're at it," Sirius said, motioning to his pile of _Daily Prophet_ papers. Bryt remembered that they had been reports on the woman's disappearance in the paper a lot recently.

"Bagman told me they hadn't," Harry said.

"Yes, he's quoted in the article in there," Sirius said with a nod, "Blustering on about how bad Bertha's memory is. Well, maybe she's changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn't forgetful at all—quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trouble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut. I can see her being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic...Maybe that's why Bagman didn't bother to look for her for so long..."

Sirius sighed, looking off to the mouth of the cave.

"What time is it?"

"It's half past three," Hermione replied.

"You'd better get back to school," Sirius said, "Now listen...I don't want you lot sneaking out of the school just to see me, all right? Just send notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd. But you're not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission; it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you." Sirius looked directly at Harry with this.

"No one's tried to attack me so far," Harry said, "Except for a dragon and a couple of grindylows."

"I don't care," Sirius said sternly, "I'll breathe freely again when this tournament's over, and that's not until June. And don't forget, if you're talking about me among yourselves, call me Snuffles, okay?"

Sirius came over to where Bryt and Hermione were, patting Buckbeak lightly on the head.

"I'll walk to the edge of the village with you," he said, "See if I can scrounge another paper."

"If it weren't for the fact my dad likes readin' them," Bryt said, "I would offer to send you my copies."

Sirius smiled at her and Bryt felt the worming guilt strongly again and she had to force herself not to look away, just hoping the guilt didn't show on her face.

"Thanks for the offer, but it's safer this way," he said, "It'll draw attention, an owl flying here with a newspaper every day."

Sirius turned, transforming into a black dog again before trotting out of the cave. The four followed and, once at the edge of the town, Sirius parted ways with them again.

"Wonder if Percy knows all that stuff about Crouch?" Ron asked as they walked along the path between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, "But maybe he doesn't care...It'd probably just make him admire Crouch even more. Yeah, Percy loves rules. He'd just say Crouch was refusing to break them for his own son."

"Percy would never throw any of his own family to dementors," Hermione said.

"I don't know," Ron replied, "If he thought we were standing in the way of his career...Percy's really ambitious, you know..."

Bryt sighed, hugging her robes against her against a cool breeze. Any time before, despite how she didn't get along at all with Percy, Bryt would have thought Ron was wrong. After all, even though Percy didn't seem to get along with some members of his family—particularly Fred and George—they were still family. Bryt couldn't have imagined why someone would turn their back on their own family.

But after hearing Sirius's story about Crouch and his son, Bryt started to wonder if Ron was right. If there were some people so ambitious that they'd turn away from people who loved them simply because it meant they could be more powerful. Though Bryt didn't like Percy, she couldn't help but hope he wouldn't turn out that way. If anything, for the sake of the other Weasleys, so they wouldn't have someone so cruel and power-hungry so close to them.


	33. News on Mr Crouch

The next morning, Bryt went with her friends to send off the letter to Percy before heading for the kitchen to give Dobby the socks they got for him the day before. As soon as they came into the kitchen, the house elves immediately offered them tea, then rushed off to prepare it before the four could answer. Bryt made a face at their eagerness, but held back on saying anything as they gave Dobby his socks.

At the sight of his present, Dobby's large eyes grew even larger and began to water in joy. Bryt thought of how it was another sign of how bad off house elves were, for Dobby to be in tears over a box of socks.

"You saved my life with that gillyweed, Dobby, you really did," Harry said, grinning.

"No chance there's more of those eclairs, is there?" Ron asked, turning to the nearby house elves. Bryt elbowed him in the side with a glare, but the house elves had already hurried off, hurrying back with a tray.

"We should get some stuff to send up to Snuffles," Harry whispered.

"Good idea. Give Pig something to do," Ron said, looking back at the house elves, "You couldn't give us a bit of extra food, could you?"

The house elves bowed, hurrying off again and Bryt sighed, telling herself that at least Ron was asking the elves instead of ordering them. Still, she knew the elves wouldn't have told Ron no, and that always bothered her.

"Dobby, where's Winky?" Hermione asked and Bryt looked around, starting to wonder where the elf was herself. She hoped Winky would be better off than the last time they were in the kitchen, but the look on Dobby's face told her that her that she would be disappointed.

"Winky is over there by the fire, miss," Dobby said slowly, his voice barely above a whisper as he pointed off towards the large fireplace they talked to Winky at before.

Bryt noticed Winky was definitely worse than before. Her clothes were so filthy, it was impossible to tell they had once been blue, and she was swaying on the stool, a bottle of butterbeer clutched in her hands. Bryt swallowed hard as Winky hiccuped and it was obvious the small house elf was drunk.

"Winky is getting through six bottles a day now," Dobby whispered.

"Butterbeer ain't exactly strong," Bryt replied, still staring at Winky.

"'Tis strong for a house elf, miss," Dobby replied, "Winky is pining. Winky wants to go home. Winky still thinks Mr. Crouch is her master, sirs and misses, and nothing Dobby says will persuade her that Professor Dumbledore is her master now."

Bryt opened her mouth, about to ask how Winky could still be so loyal to a man who mistreated her the way Mr. Crouch did, but Harry spoke up first, squatting down in front of Winky.

"Hey, Winky, you don't know what Mr. Crouch might be up to, do you? Because he's stopped turning up to judge the Triwizard Tournament."

Winky's head snapped up as she stared at Harry, but Bryt wondered if she could really see him, considering the unfocused look on her face as she swayed more.

"M—Master is stopped—_hic_—coming?" Winky asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied, "We haven't seen him since the first task. The _Daily Prophet_'s saying he's ill."

"Master—_hic_—ill?" Winky asked, looking as if she might start crying.

"We don't think so," Bryt spoke up, squatting down next to Harry, "That's—"

"Master is needing his—_hic_—Winky! Master cannot—_hic_—manage—_hic_—all by himself..."

"Other people manage to do their own housework, you know, Winky," Hermione spoke up.

"Winky—_hic_—is not only—_hic_—doing housework for Mr. Crouch!" Winky started swaying more and Bryt reached out to steady her on the stool, though she didn't seem to notice. "Master is—_hic_—trusting Winky with—_hic_—the most important—_hic_—the most secret—"

Bryt cocked her head slightly, watching Winky curiously, wondering if this had anything to do with Mr. Crouch's odd behavior.

"What secret?" Harry asked and Bryt guessed he was thinking along the same lines as her.

Winky started shaking her head so hard that her ears flapped and she nearly fell off the stool. Bryt, again, caught her gently by the arm and steadied the elf.

"Winky keeps—_hic_—her master's secrets," Winky said, frowning at Harry with her eyes crossed, an expression Bryt probably would have found funny if it weren't for the fact it was because Winky was so drunk, "You is—_hic_—nosing, you is."

"Winky must not talk like that to Harry Potter!" Dobby said, "Harry Potter is brave and noble and Harry Potter is not nosy!"

"He is nosing—_hic_—into my master's—_hic_—private and secret—_hic_—Winky is a good house elf—_hic_—Winky keeps her silence—_hic_—people trying to—_hic_—pry and poke—_hic_—"

Winky slumped off the stool, unconscious, the bottle of butterbeer she had been holding rolled off across the floor. Bryt couldn't stand to see Winky so miserable and it annoyed her that she couldn't do anything to help. Her annoyance flared more as a few house elves hurried over and covered Winky up, as if she were an unsightly stain in a carpet being masked by a cheap rug.

"We is sorry you had to see that, sirs and misses," one of the elves said, "We is hoping you will not judge us all by Winky, sirs and misses!"

"She wouldn' be a disgrace if yah'd help her!" Bryt snapped, her anger getting the better of her, "Try and cheer her up or somethin'!"

"Begging your pardon, miss, but house elves has no right to be unhappy when there is work to be done and masters to be served."

"Oh for heaven's sake!" Hermione snapped, "Listen to me, all of you! You've got just as much right as wizards to be unhappy! You've got the right to wages and holidays and proper clothes, you don't have to do everything you're told—look at Dobby!"

"And elves in the States're free!" Bryt added, "They d'the same work, but they get _paid_ fer it! They're _happy_!"

Bryt was surprised as the elves' smiles vanished. One of them had come over with an armload of food, which he immediately shoved into Harry's arms.

"We has your extra food!" the elf said loudly, "Good bye!"

Bryt tried to protest, but the elves started grouping around the quartet and practically shoved them out of the kitchen. Bryt heard Dobby calling another thanks for the socks as the painting of the fruit bowl swung shut.

"You two couldn't keep your mouths shut, could you?" Ron spun towards Bryt and Hermione, "They won't want us visiting them now! We could've tried to get more stuff out of Winky about Crouch!"

"Ron, she was drunk!" Bryt shot back, "And, with the other house elves doin' nothin' about it, we ain't gonna get anythin' from Winky, no matter what we do! All _you_ care about is gettin' more food."

Bryt turned away from her friends and started off for the entrance hall without looking back, trying to keep her anger in check. She knew she and Ron would most likely never agree on the subject of house elves, and didn't want to get into arguments that would ultimately go nowhere.

Luckily, Ron didn't seem willing to argue, either, because things were back to normal between them by the next morning. Something Bryt was extremely grateful for. She hated being at odds with any of her friends—especially Ron now that they were dating.

Bryt looked up from her bacon as the owls arrived, as she was about time for Bryt's usual letter from Sofí. As expected, Bryt's barn owl landed in front of her, but he wasn't alone. Nearly a dozen owls suddenly landed on the table in front of them, dropping letters that all had Bryt's name on them.

"What the hell?" Bryt asked, picking up the nearest envelope. She opened it and, once she saw the letter, she rolled her eyes. "Should've known."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Hate mail," Bryt said simply. Not wanting to deal with going through all the letters—and not caring what they said—Bryt pulled out her wand and incinerated any letter where she didn't recognize the return address, not bothering to even open them, "After that damn Skeeter's article in _Witch Weekly_, I expected this would start up. Don't bother me."

"I warned you not to mess with Skeeter," Ron said, worried, as one of the letters gave an odd bang as it caught fire and a yellowish-green liquid smelling strongly of gasoline started to pour over the table. Bryt jumped up before the stuff could run over the edge and onto her lap.

"There's no telling what people might try to put in these letters," Ron continued, covering his nose from the smell.

"Like I said, I don't care," Bryt said, sitting further down the table to avoid the mess that Bryt was sure was bubotuber pus and picked up Sofí's letter again. It was her normal letter, though she kept bringing up some boy named Dante Burlance, and the letter even included a picture of Sofí with this guy. Bryt had to admit that Dante was quite handsome, with his bright hazel eyes and a shoulder-length mess of curly blonde hair and was taller than Sofí—though they seemed the same height in the photo thanks to Sofí's platform boots. Bryt was sure this poor boy was just the latest in Sofí's many short-lived boyfriends, but she had to admit Sofí seemed very happy with the tall, blonde boy.

Bryt decided she'd write a response that night as she headed towards Herbology, which passed by uneventfully. As the four headed to Care of Magical Creatures, Bryt noticed Malfoy looking over towards them. Bryt guessed he was hoping for some type of reaction to the hate mail Bryt had gotten that morning. Bryt chose to simply ignore them as they made their way to Hagrid's hut, where Hagrid was waiting next to several open crates near large piles of dirt.

Curious as to what they'd be studying next, Bryt leaned over the edge of the crate and looked in. Inside were several creatures that resembled very furry, tailless anteaters with overly flat feet.

"Nifflers, right?" Bryt asked excitedly, looking up at Hagrid, instinctively pulling the ends of her robe sleeves over her bracelet and watch.

"Righ' yeh are, Bryt," Hagrid said with a pleased grin, "Yeh find 'em down in mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff...There yeh go, look."

"They're quite cute," Hermione said, leaning over the edge of the crate. Bryt took her by the shoulder and pulled her back just as a niffler leapt up and bit for Hermione's locket. Hermione clamped her hand around the object protectively, looking towards Bryt with a grateful expression.

Hagrid explained that he planned for each student to take a niffler to try and dig for gold coins that Hagrid had buried in the piles nearby. He instructed everyone to take off any jewelry, and even said there would be a reward for the person with the most gold coins at the end of the lesson. Bryt pulled off her bracelet and watch, slipping them into her mini backpack before picking up one of the nifflers, who sniffed at Bryt's face. She giggled, squirming away at the tickling sensation.

It was obvious that this lesson was the most enjoyable for every student. Bryt sat cross-legged on the ground with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, letting their nifflers dive into the piles of dirt and return to dump piles of Galleons into their laps. Ron, by far, had the most out of them.

"Bet these would make useful pets," Bryt commented as her niffler brought her more coins, "If it weren't for the fact they'd destroy your house."

"I reckon they've nearly got the lot, now," Hagrid said, "Well, let's see how yeh've done! Count yer coins! An' there's no point tryin' ter steal any, Goyle," Hagrid turned towards Goyle, who was trying to pocket some of his coins, "It's leprechaun gold. Vanishes after a few hours."

Bryt, who had been wondering how Hagrid had managed to get the gold, was now wondering where she had gotten leprechaun gold for this class. She decided not to think on it much as Ron was announced the winner and Hagrid gave him a large bar of chocolate.

"I really like nifflers," Bryt said, pulling her bracelet and watch back on as the students started up towards the castle for lunch, "They're quite adorable."

"And here I thought you'd only like something if it was dangerous," Harry teased. Bryt rolled her eyes, then noticed Ron was staring at his chocolate with an odd expression.

"What's wrong?" Bryt asked.

"Why didn't you tell me about the gold, Harry?"

"What gold?" Harry asked.

"The gold I gave you at the Quidditch World Cup," Ron said, "The leprechaun gold I gave you for my Omnioculars. In the Top Box. Why didn't you tell me it disappeared?"

"Ron, we kinda had a lot goin' on," Bryt said gently, putting a hand on his arm, "I mean, I was plannin' on tellin' you the gold disappears, but then with everythin' that happened..."

"I didn't know leprechaun gold vanishes," Ron muttered as they sat down and started putting some of the roast beef on their plates—Ron seemed so put out that Bryt was putting food on the plate for him, "I thought I was paying you back, Harry. You shouldn't've given me that Chundley Cannon hat for Christmas."

"Forget it, all right?" Harry said.

Ron took a fork and stabbed the baked potato that Bryt had just put on his plate, glaring at it before sighing.

"I hate being poor," he said.

Bryt reached out and patted Ron on the arm as she glanced towards Harry and Hermione. Ron was always touchy about his family's financial situation, and none of them knew what to say to help him.

"It's rubbish," Ron went on, "I don't blame Fred and George for trying to make some extra money. Wish I could. Wish I had a niffler."

"Well, we know what to get you next Christmas," Hermione said, obviously trying to cheer Ron up. It didn't work, though.

'_I should be able to do _somethin'_,'_ Bryt thought, looking back at Ron, who stabbed his potato again, _'I mean, I'm his girlfriend...I should be able to do somethin' to help...'_

Something that was hard to do when Ron refused to take help. He saw it as charity, another reminder of how poor he was.

Bryt sighed, having no idea what she could do to help her boyfriend. Instead, she turned back to her lunch, which passed by in awkward silence.

**xxxxx**

Though Bryt didn't care about what people thought about her, the hate mail she received over the next week began to get increasingly annoying—especially since several of them were howlers, shrieking at Bryt in the middle of the Great Hall, making her lose her appetite for breakfast on several occasions.

"I know it'll die down eventually," Bryt said as they left breakfast one morning, "But I'm hopin' it's soon. I'm gettin' tired of havin' these letters yellin' at me when I try to eat."

"I want to know how that Rita Skeeter's talking with students when she's supposed to be banned from the Hogwarts grounds!" Hermione said.

"She's often at Hogsmeade," Harry pointed out, "She could be talking to students there."

"No, that doesn't make sense," Hermione replied, "She wouldn't have had time to get interviews with both Parkinson and Colin after we ran into Skeeter, and there wasn't another Hogsmeade visit before the article came out. Besides, if she interviewed them, she wouldn't have waited a month to publish it. It also doesn't explain how she found out about Hagrid's mum. The only time Hagrid talked about that was to Madam Maxime during the Yule Ball."

"Maybe she has the place bugged," Harry said.

"Bugged?" Ron asked.

Bryt and Harry explained to Ron about recording equipment used to listen in on private conversations, which Ron seemed really interested in.

"Are any of you _ever_ going to read _Hogwarts, A History_?" Hermione asked, annoyed.

"What's the point?" Ron replied, "You know it by heart, we can just ask you."

"All those substitutes for magic Muggles use—electricity, computers, and radar, all those things—they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there's too much magic in the air. No, Skeeter's using magic to eavesdrop, she must be...If I could just find out what it is..."

"Hopefully it's somethin' illegal," Bryt said, grinning at the idea, "We could use that against her. Try and get her to stop spreadin' lies about everyone!"

"Don't we have enough to worry about?" Ron asked, "Do we have to start a vendetta against Rita Skeeter as well?"

Bryt and Hermione both spun around to face Ron, Bryt crossing her arms over her chest.

"You forgotten the lies she's been spreadin' about Harry? What she did to Hagrid?" Bryt snapped, "Don't you want to stop her?"

"We're not asking you to help," Hermione added, "Bryt and I can do this on our own!"

Though Bryt had a hard time keeping up with researching magical ways of eavesdropping as homework began piling up. Despite wanting to help Hermione, Bryt spent most of her time in the common room with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, working through their homework. Still, Hermione was managing to spend enough time researching in the library and still get all her schoolwork done. Bryt would never understand how Hermione could manage such a feat. Even during the Easter holidays, Bryt spent more time on schoolwork than helping Hermione in the library.

As the end of Easter holidays, Ron received a package of chocolate eggs from Mrs. Weasley for all four of them, though while Harry, Ron, and Hermione's were very large, Bryt's was very tiny. Bryt felt a stab of disappointment as she glanced from her egg to her friends'. From what she remembered of the summer holidays, she got along well with Mrs. Weasley and really liked the woman. She couldn't imagine what she would have done to upset her.

"Ron, your mum doesn't read _Witch Weekly_, does she?" Hermione asked, looking from Bryt to Ron.

"Yeah," Ron said, swallowing a mouthful of toffee that had been in his egg, "Gets it for the recipes."

"Apparently, she's read Skeeter's article," Bryt said with a sigh. She liked Mrs. Weasley. She didn't want Ron's mother thinking she was abusing both Ron and Harry.

"Don't worry about it, Bryt," Ron said and Bryt looked up to see him holding out his opened egg towards her with a grin, "I'll write Mum and explain everything."

Bryt couldn't help but grin as she took a couple of pieces of the toffee Ron offered and kissed him on the cheek. Sometimes, Ron could be a very sweet guy, which was one of the reasons Bryt loved him so much.

"Looks like Percy's finally written back," Harry said, picking up a letter from the package from Mrs. Wesley.

Bryt leaned over with Ron and Hermione to read the letter as Harry spread it out:

_As I am constantly telling the _Daily Prophet_, Mr. Crouch is taking a well-deserved break. He is sending in regular owls with instructions. No, I haven't actually seen him, but I think I can be trusted to know my own superior's handwriting. I have quite enough to do at the moment without trying to quash these ridiculous rumors. Please don't bother me again unless it's something important. Happy Easter._

"Well, we should have known it wouldn't work," Bryt said, sighing, "It was a worth a try, though."

**xxxxx**

As the school year entered May, the hate mail Bryt was receiving finally began to dwindle away. To her surprise, though, she was still getting regular updates on Sofí's growing relationship with Dante. By the end of May, this meant that Sofí and Dante were dating three months—by far the longest lasting relationship Sofí had kept.

Bryt was sitting in one corner of the Gryffindor common room late one evening, writing a response to Sofí's latest letter while Ron worked on a Potions assignment—occasionally asking for help, much to Hermione's annoyance when Bryt agreed. Harry was currently on the school's grounds, finding out what the last task would be so he could begin preparing for it.

"That's supposed to be three cups," Bryt said, pointing to part of Ron's essay.

Ron muttered a 'thanks', going to correct the work as Hermione glared at them from across the table. Before she could say anything, however, Harry suddenly came over, his face pale and he seemed out of breath.

"What's wrong?" Bryt asked, putting her quill in its ink well as Harry sat down, speaking in a rushed whisper.

"On the way back, Krum and I saw something at the edge of the forest and went to investigate—"

"What were you doin' goin' into the woods alone with Krum?" Bryt asked.

"We both saw something, Bryt," Harry said, "He wanted to see what it was. What was I supposed to do? Let him go into the Forbidden Forest alone?"

Bryt sighed. Sometimes, Harry could be too good for his own good. Krum could have just as easily tried to lure Harry into some type of trap to get rid of part of the competition in the Triwizard Tournament. Of course, Bryt knew next to nothing about Krum except he went to a school famous for the Dark Arts, and played Quidditch professionally. For all she knew, Krum could actually be a nice guy. After all, Bryt's first impressions on Delacour had been wrong. Couldn't she also be wrong about Krum?

"But that's not the point," Harry went on, "What is, is that we ran into Mr. Crouch in the woods—"

"What would Mr. Crouch be doin' here on the Hogwarts grounds?"

"He was wanting to talk to Dumbledore," Harry said, "He said he had something important to tell him—that Voldemort was getting stronger..."

Ron winced at the name and Bryt stared at Harry, feeling a bit numb. As usual when Voldemort was brought up, her mind went back to that night in the forest during her first year. Bryt closed her eyes to push back the thought of the cloaked figure bent over a dead unicorn, but it didn't help much. She shook her head, looking back up at Harry and how pale he was. Voldemort getting stronger was not the news any of them wanted to hear. All Bryt could hope for was that Mr. Crouch was mistaken.


	34. Unnerving Possibilities

Bryt stood in the Owlery, staring out a window over the grounds as Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood nearby, having just sent a letter to Sirius about what had happened the night before—and Bryt had sent her letter off to Sofí. She was tired—she and her friends had been up most all night as Harry explained what happened with Crouch.

Harry had told them that Crouch seemed insane, talking to trees and acting as if he thought he was back at the Ministry of Magic. Occasionally, however, he seemed to break through and know where he was—that's when he would start insisting to see Dumbledore and talking about Voldemort. Harry had gone to get Dumbledore, but Snape had held him up outside the office and by the time they got back to the forest, Krum had been Stunned and Crouch was gone. Moody had shown up soon after, as well as Hagrid and Karkaroff, and Moody went into the forest to look for Crouch while Hagrid took Harry back up to the castle.

Bryt leaned forward, her arms crossed over the window's ledge as she stared out at the forest, her mind still racing after everything Harry had told them. She wondered if Moody had managed to find Crouch, or if the man was still stumbling around through the trees, out of his mind—and all that could happen to him because of the countless dangerous creatures living there. Despite the fact that Bryt didn't like Crouch much, she hoped he was okay out there.

"It comes down to this," Hermione said, "Either Mr. Crouch attacked Krum, or somebody else attacked both of them when Krum wasn't looking."

Bryt looked over at Hermione, seeing her rubbing the bridge of her nose, her eyes closed and wrinkles showing in her forehead from concentration.

"It must've been Crouch," Ron answered immediately, "That's why he was gone when Harry and Dumbledore got there. He's done a runner."

"I don't think so," Harry said, "He seemed really weak—I don't reckon he was up to Disapparating or anything."

"You can't Disapparate at Hogwarts," Bryt said, turning and leaning against the window's ledge, ignoring the filth on it. After the countless times Hermione's been telling them, it seems like Bryt was the only one who managed to remember.

"Okay...How's this for a theory," Ron said, looking between them, "Krum attacked Crouch—" (Bryt and Hermione both rolled their eyes) "—no, wait for it—and then Stunned himself!"

"And Mr. Crouch evaporated, did he?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, yeah..."

"We're missin' somethin' here," Bryt sighed, running a hand through her short hair and nearly pulling her headband off in the process.

"Well, Mr. Crouch wasn't making much sense," Harry said, "He said he wanted to warn Dumbledore about something. He definitely mentioned Bertha Jenkins, and he seemed to think she was dead. He kept saying stuff was his fault...He mentioned his son."

"Well, that _was_ his fault," Hermione cut in. Bryt nodded in agreement.

"He was out of his mind," Harry went on, "Half the time he seemed to think his wife and son were still alive, and he kept talking to Percy about work and giving him instructions."

"And...remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?" Ron asked slowly, seeming as if he didn't really want to know.

"I've told you. He said he's getting stronger."

Silence fell over the four and Bryt hugged her sides, staring down at the ground in front of her.

"Maybe he was wrong," Bryt whispered hopefully, "I mean, you said yourself that Crouch seemed insane...Maybe he's imaginin' that Voldemort's gettin' stronger..."

"He was the sanest when he was trying to talk about Voldemort," Harry said, ignoring Ron's wince at the name, "He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when he seemed to know where he was, and know what he wanted to do. He just kept saying he had to see Dumbledore."

Bryt closed her eyes a moment, once again trying to push away the mental image of the cloaked figure she had seen years ago. She looked over at Harry, who was glaring up at the rafters overhead.

"If Snape hadn't held me up," he said, "We might've got there in time. 'The headmaster is busy, Potter...what's this rubbish, Potter?' Why couldn't he have just got out of the way?"

"Because he's Snape," Bryt said simply.

"Maybe he didn't want you there!" Ron spoke up and Bryt sighed. Sometimes Ron's theories could be far too out there.

"Maybe—hang on—" Ron went on, "How fast d'you reckon he could've gotten down to the forest? D'you reckon he could've beaten you and Dumbledore there?"

"Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something."

"Wouldn't put it past him," Ron muttered and Bryt snorted.

"We need to see Professor Moody," Hermione said, "We need to find out whether he found Mr. Crouch."

"If he had the Marauder's Map on him, it would've been easy," Harry replied.

"Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds, because it only shows up to the boundaries, don't—"

"Shh!"

Bryt looked over towards the door and could hear voices coming closer, and, for a second, Bryt thought it was someone arguing with themself.

"—that's blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that—"

"—we've tried being polite; it's time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn't like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did—"

"I'm telling you, if you put that in writing, it's blackmail!"

"Yeah, and you won't be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?"

Fred and George came in then, and suddenly fell silent when they noticed the quartet already there. All at once, everyone seemed to start talking.

"What're you doing here?"

"Sending a letter."

"What, at this time?"

For a second, everyone just stared at each other. Bryt pushed herself away from the wall, brushing off her robes a bit.

"Fine," Fred said, "We won't ask you what you're doing, if you don't ask us."

Bryt bit her lower lip slightly. Fred and George had been talking about blackmailing someone. They were just expecting that the subject would just be dropped? Bryt glanced towards the letter Fred was holding, but he had it turned so the name was hidden from view.

"Who're you blackmailing?" Ron asked, obviously thinking on the same lines as Bryt.

"Don't be stupid, I was only joking," George said, glancing towards Fred with an uneasy expression. It didn't take a genius to figure out he was lying.

"Didn't sound like that," Ron said, still staring at his brothers.

Fred and George exchanged another glance before Fred turned back to Ron.

"I've told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like the shape it is. Can't see why you would, but—"

"It's my business if you're blackmailing someone," Ron cut in, "George's right, you could end up in serious trouble for that."

"Told you, I was joking," George said as Fred picked a school owl and sent off their letter, "You're starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you'll be made a prefect."

"No, I won't!"

"Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later."

Fred and George turned and left as Bryt looked over at her friends, still worried about what Fred and George were getting into.

"You don't think they know something about all this, do you?" Hermione asked quietly, looking anxious, "About Mr. Crouch and everything?"

"No," Harry said at once, "If it was something that serious, they'd tell someone. They'd tell Dumbledore."

Bryt nodded, then noticed Ron looking doubtful.

"You think they wouldn't?" Bryt asked, running her fingers along her turquoise bracelet.

"They're..." Ron started slowly, "They're obsessed with making money lately. I noticed it when I was hanging around them—when—you know—"

"We weren't talking," Harry said with a small nod.

"But resortin' to blackmail?" Bryt asked, looking towards the door where Fred and George had left, "I know I don't know as much about your brothers as you do, Ron, but...I've always figured they're like Sofí. They joke around and break rules, sure, but I never thought they'd do anythin'...well, _illegal_."

"Maybe we should tell Percy..." Hermione said.

"Are you mad?" Ron looked at Hermione with an odd expression, "Tell Percy? He'd probably do a Crouch and turn them in." Ron looked towards the window, seeming lost in thought for a moment. Bryt reached over, putting a hand on his arm.

"I'm sure Fred and George'll be okay," she said, "C'mon, let's go get breakfast."

"D'you think it's too early to go see Professor Moody?" Hermione asked as they started towards the Great Hall, Bryt keeping her hand around Ron's.

"Yes," Harry answered immediately, "He'd probably blast us through the door if we wake him at the crack of dawn; he'll think we're trying to attack him while he's asleep. Let's give it till break."

The wait through History of Magic went better than Bryt expected, though most likely because she had fallen asleep a few minutes into the class. Ron woke Bryt up as the bell rang, and the four hurried towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. They reached the door right as Moody was leaving, looking as if he didn't get any sleep at all the night before.

"Professor Moody?" Harry called to get the teacher's attention as the four came closer.

"Hello, Potter," Moody answered, staring at them with his normal eye as his magical one focused on a group of passing first year Ravenclaws. He watched until the group were out of sight around the corner before the eye spun and focused on the four again. Bryt glanced away, sure she'd never get used to Moody's magical eye.

"Come in here," Moody added, motioning into his classroom.

Bryt headed inside with her friends, sitting down on one of the desks near the front of the classroom as Moody closed the door behind them.

"Did you find him?" Harry asked as soon as the door was shut, "Mr. Crouch?"

"No," Moody answered, sitting at his own desk and stretching out his wooden leg. Bryt made a point to look away.

"Did you use the map?"

"Of course," Moody replied, "Took a leaf out of your book, Potter. Summoned it from my office into the forest. He wasn't anywhere on there."

"So he _did_ Disapparate?" Ron asked.

"_You can't Disapparate on the grounds, Ron!_" Hermione hissed.

"Doesn't mean he didn't disappear some other way," Bryt pointed out, and Hermione turned to her and nodded.

"I bet there are plenty of other ways, right, Professor?" she asked, turning from Bryt to Moody.

Moody stared at the two girls with both eyes, and Bryt was just grateful the magical eye was still for a change.

"You're another two who might think about a career as Aurors," he said, "Minds work in the right way."

Hermione grinned, blushing a bit, but Bryt tried to fight back a disagreeing look. She respected anyone who was an Auror, and respected everything they did, but she couldn't see herself going into the career herself. She had proven over the years that she rarely did well in dangerous situations, and didn't like the idea of going into just those type of unpredictable, dangerous situations on a near-daily basis.

"Well, he wasn't invisible," Harry said, "The map shows invisible people. He must've left the grounds, then."

"By choice or force, though?" Bryt asked.

"Yeah," Ron straightened up in the seat of the desk Bryt was sitting on and looked over at Moody—Bryt suspected he was looking for the same praise Moody gave her and Hermione, "Someone could've—could've pulled him onto a broom and flown off with him, couldn't they?"

"We can't rule out kidnap," Moody answered shortly.

"So, d'you reckon he's somewhere in Hogsmeade?"

"Could be anywhere. Only thing we know for sure is that he's not here," Moody gave a loud yawn before looking over the four again, "Now, Dumbledore's told me you four fancy yourselves as investigators, but there's nothing you can do for Crouch. The Ministry'll be looking for him now, Dumbledore's notified them. Potter, you just keep your mind on the third task."

"What?" Harry asked, taken off-guard for a moment before he finally seemed to remember the maze growing out on the Quidditch pitch—Harry had told Bryt, Ron, and Hermione about it briefly while talking about Crouch the night before.

"Should be right up your street, this one," Moody went on, "From what Dumbledore's said, you managed to get through stuff like this plenty of times. Broke your way through a series of obstacles guarding the Sorcerer's Stone in your first year, didn't you?"

"We helped," Ron spoke up quickly and Bryt sighed, resisting the urge to shake her head at Ron's enthusiasm, "Me, Bryt, and Hermione helped."

Moody grinned at them and Ron looked pleased.

"Well, help him practice for this one, and I'll be very surprised if he doesn't win," Moody said, "In the meantime...Constant vigilance, Potter. Constant vigilance."

Moody took a swig from the hip flask he always carried, his magical eye focusing on the window nearby while his normal one turned towards Ron, Bryt, and Hermione.

"You three," he said, "You stick close to Potter, all right? I'm keeping an eye on things, but all the same...you can never have too many eyes out."

Bryt nodded, thinking over what Moody said. He made it sound like something bad was going to happen. At first, Bryt pushed it off as Moody being paranoid, thinking that a box of flobberworms would be a risk to everyone. Then she thought about what Harry had mentioned about Crouch. That Voldemort was getting stronger...

'_I don't like this at all,'_ Bryt thought, pushing herself off the desk and heading off from the classroom with her friends, '_Somethin' just doesn't seem right about all this.'_

But what, Bryt had no clue. All she could do now was help Harry prepare for the third task and hope for the best.

**xxxxx**

Pigwidgeon returned with Sirius's reply the next morning, landing at the same time as Bryt received her copy of the _Daily Prophet_. Bryt did a quick scan, relieved to see that Crouch's disappearance at Hogwarts hadn't made it into the news yet, then turned to Harry to read Sirius's letter.

_Harry—what do you think you are playing at, walking off into the forest with Viktor Krum? I want you to swear, by return owl, that you are not going to go walking with anyone else at night. There is somebody highly dangerous at Hogwarts. It is clear to me that they wanted to stop Crouch from seeing Dumbledore and you were probably feet away from them in the dark. You could have been killed._

_Your name didn't get into the Goblet of Fire by accident. It someone's trying to attack you, they're on their last chance. Stay close to Ron, Hermione, and Bryt, do not leave the Gryffindor Tower after hours, and arm yourself for the third task. Practice Stunning and Disarming. A few hexes wouldn't go amiss either. There's nothing you can do about Crouch. Keep your head down and look after yourself. I'm waiting for your letter giving me your word you won't stray out-of-bounds again._

_Sirius_

"Who's he, to lecture me about being out-of-bounds?" Harry asked, sounding irritated, "After all the stuff he did at school!"

"He didn't have someone tryin' to kill him when he was at school," Bryt pointed out.

"He's worried about you," Hermione added, "Just like Moody and Hagrid. So listen to them!"

"No one's tried to attack me all year," Harry said, putting away Sirius's letter, "No one's done anything to me at all—"

"Except put your name in the Goblet of Fire," Hermione cut in, "And they must've done that for a reason, Harry. Snuffles is right. Maybe they've been biding their time. Maybe this is the task they're going to get you."

"Look, let's say Sirius is right, and someone Stunned Krum to kidnap Crouch. Well, they _would've_ been in the trees near us, wouldn't they? But they waited till I was out of the way until they acted, didn't they? So it doesn't look like I'm the target, does it?"

"Maybe they're tryin' to lure you into a false sense of security," Bryt said, "Make you think you're safe, that nothin'll actually happen. Then attack you durin' this third task. Too many odd things have happened this year for you to take any more risks like you did the other night."

"Bryt's right," Hermione added, "You need to start training for the third task, straight away. And you make sure you write back to Sirius and promise him you're not going to go sneaking off alone again."

Harry reluctantly agreed and, despite knowing it was for the best, Bryt could understand what Harry had to be thinking. It was just the same as the year before when Harry was constantly told not to go anywhere alone and not to leave the castle after hours because they thought Sirius was some madman out to kill him. Of course, that turned out to be untrue, but this year was different. There was no mistaking that someone had put Harry's name in the goblet. Why else would someone do this unless they planned something nasty for Harry in the long run?

Determined to help Harry be ready for anything that would happen, Bryt, Hermione, and Ron spent every spare moment helping Harry research hexes in the library, or practicing in empty classrooms. By the Monday after Sirius's letter, Harry was already mastering the Stunning Spell, though it needed to be practiced with a living target, which left Ron very sore that evening as he, Harry, and Bryt headed to Divination and Hermione left for Arithmancy.

"It's going to be boiling in Trelawney's room, she never puts out that fire," Ron groaned, still rubbing his back slightly from being Stunned so many times in the past half hour.

"Wish she'd at least let us take off these robes," Bryt said with a sigh. The heat was bad enough, but when also wearing black full-length robes, it was almost unbearable. Once again, Bryt found herself envious of the sunny-yellow robes Julio and Sofí wore at Salem.

Bryt, Harry, and Ron sat at a table near the window and Bryt noticed Harry opened the window just slightly. Even from where Bryt was, she could feel the slight breeze coming from it and was grateful.

"My dears," Trelawney started, "We have almost finished our work on planetary divination. Today, however, will be an excellent opportunity to examine the effects of Mars, for he is placed most interestingly at the present time. If you will all look this way, I will dim the lights..."

As the lights dimmed and Bryt propped her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, already tuning out Trelawney's explanation. She never understood what was being said anyway, and if she really needed a bit of information, she'd look it up in her book. Instead, Bryt admired the solar system model and how the light from the sun glistened off the glass surface of the planets.

Bryt felt something brush against her arm and turned just as Harry fell back, his hands clawing at his forehead. Bryt felt a cold rush of fear as she and Ron both hurried towards their friend, grabbing at his arms to try and find out what was wrong, and both suddenly realizing Harry was asleep—obviously having some type of nightmare.

"Harry!" Ron called out loudly, "_Harry!_"

Harry's eyes shot open and Bryt breathed a short sigh of relief, though that relief was quickly replaced with worry as she noticed how pale Harry's face was.

"You okay?" Bryt asked, wondering what Harry had to have been dreaming about to frighten him so much.

"Of course he isn't!" Trelawney said loudly behind them and Bryt jumped, turning to see was staring at them, as well as the entire class. Trelawney was staring between Ron and Bryt, her gaze focused on Harry and seeming far more excited than she should be considering Harry had collapsed, "What was it, Potter? A premonition? An apparition? What did you see?"

Bryt glared at her teacher as she helped Harry sit up. Did Trelawney care about anything other than 'visions' and her annoying predictions?

"Nothing," Harry said simply and Bryt glanced over at him. She could tell by his face that whatever he had been dreaming about hadn't been 'nothing'. But she also knew better than to say anything in front of Trelawney.

"You were clutching your scar! You were rolling around on the floor, clutching your scar! Come now, Potter, I have experience in these matters!"

Bryt bit on her tongue to keep from snapping at Trelawney to shut up. Bryt had never liked the Divination teacher much, but today, she was becoming more insufferable than her usual just plain annoying.

"I need to go to the hospital wing, I think," Harry said simply, "Bad headache."

"My dear, you were undoubtedly stimulated by the extraordinary clairvoyant vibrations of my room!" Trelawney said, and Bryt gripped her hands tightly into fists, trying to hold back another urge to snap at her, "If you leave now, you may lose the opportunity to see further than you have ever—"

"I don't want to see anything except a headache cure," Harry cut in, standing up and most of the class backed away from him.

Bryt and Ron both looked up at Harry as he glanced towards them, and it was clear he was planning to tell them later. Harry gave a quick 'see you later', then headed out of the classroom. Ignoring the class slowly settling back down, and Trelawney reluctantly go back to the lesson, Bryt and Ron leaned towards each other at their table.

"Do you think he's going to Dumbledore?" Ron asked in a whisper.

"Well, Sirius told him that if his scar hurt again, that's what he should do," Bryt whispered back, "I'm sure that's what he's doin'. He'll tell us later."

Ron nodded in agreement, and the two fell silent, but neither were concentrating on the lesson. Bryt glanced towards the window as a bug flew off across the grounds, quickly disappearing from sight. Bryt sighed, propping her chin on her hand again as she stared out at the Hogwarts grounds, worry eating inside her as she thought about Harry clutching at his forehead and thrashing around in his sleep. She thought about their first year when Harry claimed he thought his scar hurt because Voldemort was near and Bryt gave a small shudder. It played in too well with the story of Crouch claiming Voldemort was getting stronger.

'_This can't all be a coincidence,'_ Bryt thought, thinking about everything that had happened over the past several months, starting with the chaos at the Quidditch World Cup. Bryt swallowed down the worry that was growing stronger. All she could hope for was that Harry would be okay. All he had to do now was get through the last task of the tournament, and Bryt, Ron, and Hermione were all helping him there.

'_He'll be prepared,'_ Bryt tried to reassure herself, _'For whatever's goin' on.'_


	35. Building Confidence

Bryt, Hermione, and Ron were working on homework when Harry finally returned to the common room that afternoon. It was obvious on his face as he sat down that he had a lot to tell them.

He started with how he overheard Dumbledore and Moody talking with the Minister of Magic about Crouch's disappearance. Harry told them that Fudge believed Crouch was insane and ran off, or either Madam Maxime had attacked him, believing she would simply because she was half-giant.

After that, Harry said that he had accidentally gone into some of Dumbledore's memories in something called a Pensieve. He told them he saw trials that Crouch had overseen, starting with Karkaroff turning over names of Death Eaters to get out of Azkaban. Karkaroff even named Snape—though that part wasn't too surprising once Bryt thought about it—and Dumbledore claimed that Snape turned spy against Voldemort before his fall. Bryt started to ask about it, but stopped herself, knowing she should let Harry finish.

Harry went on to tell them that Ludo Bagman had been charged with passing information to Death Eaters, but was cleared of the charges. Apparently, Ludo had been tricked into giving information, thinking he was gathering information on Death Eaters rather than him unwittingly doing the opposite.

He also said he talked with Dumbledore afterward, about the dream he had during Divination and how his scar was hurting. He told them that Dumbledore talked about the pain was most likely due to intense feelings on Voldemort's part, and Dumbledore believed, like Crouch, that Voldemort was indeed getting stronger.

By the time Harry was done talking, it was well after everyone else had gone to bed, leaving Bryt and her friends alone near the common room fireplace, their homework assignments forgotten.

Bryt's head was spinning. She was leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, rubbing her hands over her temples as she thought. She wished she hadn't left her small backpack up in her room this morning—writing down in her diary always helped her sort her thoughts and clear her head.

'_Voldemort gettin' stronger?'_ Bryt thought, staring blankly at the table in front of her, _'Dumbledore thinks so...If Dumbledore thinks it...Doesn't that mean it's very possible?'_

"Dumbledore reckons You-Know-Who's getting stronger again as well?" Ron asked quietly. Bryt glanced over and saw Ron staring at the fire, then shuddered. Bryt reached over and took his hand in hers before looking back towards Harry and Hermione, who both seemed deep in thought. Ron acknowledged Bryt's gesture by lightly squeezing her hand.

"And he trusts Snape?" Ron continued, "He really trusts Snape, even though he knows he was a Death Eater?"

"Yes," Harry answered simply, his voice seeming a bit hoarse.

"This is..." Bryt started, sighing and shaking her head, "I dunno...Insane..."

"Rita Skeeter."

Harry, Bryt, and Ron all looked over towards Hermione, who was staring at her lap.

"What's that cow got to do with this?" Bryt asked.

Hermione looked up at Bryt.

"Remember what she said to you in the Three Broomsticks?" she asked, "'I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair stand on end.' This is what she meant, isn't it? I bet she reported on his trial. She knew he'd passed information to Death Eaters. And Winky, too, remember...'Ludo Bagman's a bad wizard'. Mr. Crouch would have been furious he got off, he would have talked about it at home."

"Harry said no one thought Bagman passed information on purpose," Bryt said, "And admit it, Bagman ain't exactly the smartest person. It's pretty believable that he could be tricked into thinkin' he was helpin' our side, when he actually wasn't."

"And Fudge reckons _Madam Maxime_ attacked Crouch?" Ron asked, turning back to Harry before the conversation on Bagman could continue.

"Yeah," Harry said, "But he's only saying that because Crouch disappeared near the Beauxbatons carriage."

"We never thought of her, did we?" Ron asked, "Mind you, she's definitely got giant blood, and she doesn't want to admit it—"

"Look at what happened to Hagrid," Bryt cut in sharply, "Besides, how giants are, I wouldn't want to admit I had giant blood, if I did."

"Bryt, no one would believe you of all people have giant blood," Ron pointed out, "Goblin blood, maybe."

Bryt glared at Ron. She opened her mouth to make a retort, but Hermione spoke up first.

"We haven't done any practicing!" she said, "We were going to do the Impediment Curse! We'll have to really get down to it tomorrow! Come on, Harry, you need to get sleep."

Bryt would have much rather kept talking about what Harry had learned, but knew better than to go against Hermione. She gave Ron a quick kiss, telling him and Harry goodnight, then grabbed her things and headed up to her dormitory. While Hermione changed into her pajamas and went to bed, Bryt pulled out her diary, unable to sleep after what Harry had told them. As usual, writing helped Bryt work out her thoughts. Though she was still as confused as when she started, her mind still racing with everything she had learned.

Once Bryt had everything down, she changed herself and curled up under her covers, staring up over her bed. She couldn't stop thinking about what Harry had told them. How Dumbledore thought Voldemort was getting stronger...

Bryt sighed, rolling onto her side and yanking the covers over her head. She didn't want to think about it, though no matter how much she tried to push her thoughts away, it was hours before she finally managed to get into a fitful sleep.

**xxxxx**

Bryt should have been studying for her final exams coming up—especially Transfiguration—but instead was helping Harry prepare for the third task. Harry even brought this up during lunch while they were working in the Transfiguration classroom—offered by McGonagall, who was tired of walking in on them practicing all over the school.

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said, "At least we'll get top marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts. We'd never have found out about all these hexes in class."

"Good training for when we're all Aurors," Ron said after causing a wasp to freeze in midair with an Impediment Curse.

"For you maybe," Bryt said, "Bein' an Auror would be too dangerous for me."

"Oh, and what would you do instead?" Harry asked.

"Terry and I talked about it a couple of times," Bryt said, trying to stop a cushion Hermione tossed in the air, only to send it flying across the room and nearly knocking over McGonagall's ink well on her desk. Bryt winced at the thought of what McGonagall would have done if Bryt had ruined everything on her desk.

"What'd he have to say about anything?" Ron asked irritably, and Bryt glared at him. Even though Bryt was dating Ron now, he still seemed to be hostile towards Terry if they passed him in the hall, or when Bryt brought him up. Bryt often wondered if it had to do with how Terry had accused Bryt of cheating on him during the beginning of the school year. Ron could definitely hold a grudge for a very long time.

"He says his dad's friends with someone who works in MCRS—y'know, the Magical Creature Removal Squad—in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," Bryt said with a grin, "That's somethin' I'd like to get into."

Harry stared at Bryt with a confused look, while Ron looked at her as if she were insane. Hermione simply shook her head.

"What?" Bryt asked, staring at them.

"You want to go chasing down magical creatures for a living," Ron said, "And you think being an _Auror_ is too dangerous? MCRS is basically the beast-chasing version of Aurors!"

"There's a huge difference!" Bryt said.

"Not that I can see!"

"There's a huge difference," Bryt said again, sitting on a desk, "People are unpredictable. When you're goin' after a Dark wizard, you don't know what curses they prefer, how they think, what type of traps they might set up to try and get away, or how they'd react when cornered. Creatures, for the most part, are predictable. You know the way they'll attack, warning signs when they're about to try somethin'. They're most dangerous when cornered, but even then, for the most part, they're predicable. Besides," Bryt grinned at her friends. "We all know I don't do well against people in real fights, but I do my best when workin' with creatures."

"You can't argue with her there," Harry said with a grin. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Bryt—"

"I know, I'm mental," Bryt cut in, grinning. She'd heard it enough from Ron over the years to know when he was thinking it.

"Well, these curses and hexes would still help you out in MCRS," Hermione said simply and Bryt nodded, hopping off the desk to get back to work.

As late June came closer and closer, Bryt and her friends managed to master more and more spells. It wasn't long before all of them could easily do the Impediment Curse, the Reductor Curse—which would blast objects out of someone's way when needed—the Jelly-Legs Jinx, and the Four-Point Spell, which turned the wand into a temporary compass, pointing north. Hermione and Ron were doing well with the Shield Charm, though Bryt and Harry still hadn't gotten the hang of it. Something Harry learned the hard way as he had to wobble around the room for several minutes after Hermione hit him with a Jelly-Legs Jinx.

"You'd think we'd know the counter-jinx already with all the practice we had before," Bryt commented once Hermione finally found the page and helped Harry out.

"Yes, you've said five times already," Hermione said irritably.

"Come look at this," Ron said suddenly from the window, "What's Malfoy doing?"

Bryt, Harry, and Hermione headed over to Ron, looking over his shoulder down at the Hogwarts grounds. They could easily see Malfoy near a tree with Crabbe and Goyle, who seemed to be standing guard while Malfoy was apparently talking into his hand.

"He looks like he's using a walkie-talkie," Harry said.

"He can't be," Hermione replied, "I've told you, those sorts of things don't work around Hogwarts. Come on, Harry. Let's try that Shield Charm again."

Hermione headed back across the room and while Harry started his practice again, Bryt had to explain to Ron in a low whisper exactly what a walkie-talkie was, and what it was used for.

**xxxxx**

When the day of the final task came, Harry was obviously getting nervous again, though Bryt could tell he was nowhere near as bad as with the first two tasks.

'_He wasn't nearly as prepared for the others as he is for this,'_ Bryt thought as they sat down for breakfast, reminding herself that Harry also didn't have to take the end-of-term exams. Today was the final day, with History of Magic in the morning and Charms after lunch.

With mail came Bryt's usual copy of the _Daily Prophet_. She glanced at the front page and noticed a picture of Harry, along with the title: _HARRY POTTER "DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS"_.

"Not today," Bryt said with a groan. Ron looked over Bryt's shoulder and shoved the paper down.

"That old _cow_!" he snapped.

"What?" Harry asked, "Rita Skeeter again?"

"No," Ron answered quickly. Bryt glared at him.

"Harry's gonna find out anyway," she said, "Especially knowin' the Slytherins over there." Bryt gestured over her shoulder, then ignoring Ron's warning look, spread out the paper over the table to let Harry lean over and read the article with her, Ron, and Hermione:

_The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is unstable and possibly dangerous,_ writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. _Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behavior, which casts doubts upon his suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School._

_Potter, the _Daily Prophet _can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your _Daily Prophet _reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying._

_It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potter's brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion._

"_He might even be pretending," says one specialist. "This could be a plea for attention."_

_The _Daily Prophet_, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public._

"_Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals Draco Malfoy, a Hogwarts fourth year. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a dueling club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But he's made friends with werewolves and giants too. We think he'd do anything for a bit of power."_

_Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Force Defense League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue "as worthy of investigation. Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anybody who could converse with snakes, as serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark Magic, and are historically associated with evildoers." Similarly, "anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence."_

_Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter might resort to the Dark Arts in his desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening._

"Gone off me a bit, hasn't she?" Harry asked, actually grinning. It seemed he had learned over the year not to take Skeeter's articles seriously.

"How did she know your scar hurt in Divination?" Ron asked, "There's no way she was there, there's no way she could have heard—"

"Harry opened the window durin' class," Bryt pointed out.

"You were at the North Tower!" Hermione said, "Your voice couldn't have carried all the way down to the grounds!"

"True," Bryt said, "And I think we would have noticed if she was somehow lurking outside the window. Not to mention she would have most likely been noticed flyin' on a broom by the window, even if she used an invisibility cloak. It couldn't cover her completely. All I remember seein' was a bug."

Hermione's face suddenly lit up as she stared at Bryt.

"You saw a bug on the window?" she asked.

"Yeah," Bryt said with a nod, then realized what Hermione was thinking, "Oh!"

"It explains everything," Hermione said, "Why no one sees her on the Hogwarts grounds...Not even Moody would be able to see...And how she knew what happened in that Divination class...But she's not allowed...she's definitely not allowed...I think we've got her! Just give me two seconds in the library—just to make sure!"

Hermione jumped up and took off from the Great Hall and Bryt stood to go after her, but Ron pulled her back down in her seat.

"Not this time," he said, "What's going on? How do you think Skeeter's getting all these stories?"

Bryt looked between Harry and Ron, knowing they deserved to know what she and Hermione just figured out. She was just about to tell them the theory that Skeeter may be an animagus—turning herself into a beetle to eavesdrop on people—when McGonagall came over and Bryt closed her mouth again before she even started.

"Potter," McGonagall said, "The champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast."

"But the task's not 'till tonight!" Harry said, his eyes widening.

"I'm aware of that, Potter. The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them."

McGonagall headed back up the table and Harry stared after her with his mouth hanging open. Bryt couldn't blame him. All she knew of the Dursleys from Harry, them coming to Hogwarts was as unheard of as Snape being fair to all his students.

"She doesn't expect the Dursleys to turn up, does she?" Harry asked, voicing their thoughts.

"Dunno," Ron said slowly.

"C'mon, Ron," Bryt stood up as she checked her watch, "We're gonna be late for class...I'll tell you about our theory on Skeeter later, Harry."

Bryt took Ron by the hand as they started from the Great Hall, though Ron looked over at her.

"Are you at least going to tell me?" he asked.

"It's only a theory," Bryt said, "I'd rather wait 'til Hermione has the proof, really. Or tell you and Harry together."

Ron gave an annoyed sigh and Bryt grinned at him as they headed towards History of Magic just as Hermione did.

"Where's Harry?" she asked.

"He's back at the Great Hall," Bryt said, making a face, "Apparently, champions' families are here for the final task."

"The Dursleys can't really be here, can they?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Doubt it," Ron said, "Harry'll most likely read up on more hexes for the task tonight. We'll see him at lunch."

It was a relief to Bryt once the bell rang and the History of Magic exam was over. She was eager to get out of the warm room and enjoy a good lunch before heading to their Charms exam. As they started down the hall, Hermione told them she still had to do a little more checking up in the library on her theory about Skeeter and headed off before Bryt or Ron could say anything. Bryt would have gone with her, but she didn't know what they would be looking for. She knew Hermione would get everything figured out easily on her own.

"Don't worry, Ron," Bryt said before her boyfriend could complain again, "I'll tell you and Harry what this is about once we get in the Great Hall."

Though the two were in for a surprise once they approached the Gryffindor table. Harry wasn't sitting alone, but was instead with Mrs. Weasley and Bill.

"Mum—Bill!" Ron exclaimed, looking as confused as Bryt felt, "What're you doing here?"

"Come to watch Harry in the last task!" Mrs. Weasley said happily, "I must say, it's a lovely change, not having to cook. It's lovely to see you again as well, Bryt."

Bryt grinned, glad that Mrs. Weasley seemed friendly towards her again as she sat down next to Ron. Apparently, Ron's letter home explaining the article from Skeeter was a lie had smoothed things over completely.

"Oh, Bryt," Harry started, "Are you going to tell us—"

Bryt cut Harry off by kicking at him under the table and gesturing to Mrs. Weasley, who was saying something to Ron and didn't seem to notice. Bryt knew she and Hermione needed to tell Harry and Ron soon, but it would be best to wait until Mrs. Weasley wasn't around.

'_We'll tell them after the final task,'_ Bryt thought.

Hermione came halfway through lunch and seemed just as surprised—and pleased—to see Mrs. Weasley and Bill. Bryt had to admit, it was nice to know someone had come to cheer on Harry as his family.

After lunch, Harry went off to spend the afternoon with Mrs. Weasley and Bill while Bryt, Hermione, and Ron headed to their Charms exam, which Bryt felt she did quite well in.

At dinner, Bryt could feel the anticipation building as everyone knew the third task would be taking place in less than an hour. Bryt also noticed Harry was barely eating any of his food, obviously nervous.

'_At least he's prepared for this one,'_ Bryt thought. She had a good feeling about this task. They had spent the last month helping Harry learn any spell that would help him that night, so she was sure that Harry would do well. Things could always go wrong, but she was positive that Harry would be able to handle whatever happened.

Thus nearly half an hour later, Bryt was heading down to watch the first task with her friends—Harry and the other champions had already gone down—and, for the first time, wasn't on edge about what would happen. Win or lose for Harry, this was the final task. Everything would be over in a few hours and Harry would be okay. He was prepared this time.

As Bryt sat between Hermione and Ron, she noticed Mike running over towards her with Natalie, both of them grinning brightly and, right behind them, Drew and his two friends Owen and Kevin.

"Bryt!" Mike said, stopping in front of her and literally bouncing on the spot. Ron looked as if he was trying hard not to laugh and even Hermione was grinning at Mike's excitement.

"Bryt, tell Drew that Harry's going to win tonight!" Mike went on, "He thinks that Diggory guy is better and is gonna win, but that won't happen!"

"Cedric did a lot better in the second task!" Drew said, crossing his arms over his chest, "He came back first—"

"But the mermaids said that Harry actually got there first!" Natalie cut in, "He stayed to make sure everyone would get back—"

"Hey, hey, stop," Bryt cut into the argument now, fighting hard to hold back her own laughter, "Harry and Diggory're both gonna do great."

"Besides, as long as one of them wins, Hogwarts gets a victory," Kevin said with a bright grin.

"Though I bet Diggory will win," Owen added, "Hannah told us Cedric beat Harry Potter in Quidditch last year, he'll beat him again now!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin!" Bagman's voice boomed loudly near the entrance of the maze, silencing conversations and Drew, Mike, and their friends all quickly took seats in front of Bryt, Hermione, and the three Weasleys.

"Let me remind you how the points currently stand!" Bagman continued, "Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each—Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts school!"

Bryt joined in the loud cheering as both her brothers had jumped to their feet, clapping and screaming loudly. Bryt shook her head slightly, grinning.

"In second place, with eighty points—Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause came, though not as loud as the first simply because only barely a dozen students were cheering for their school champion. "And in third place—Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

As the cheering came, Bryt looked towards Harry, who seemed to have spotted them and waved. Bryt grinned, waving back with the others.

"So...on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" Bagman said, raising a whistle to his lips, "Three—two—one—"

Bagman gave a short blast with the whistle and Bryt cheered as Harry entered the maze with Diggory. Five minutes later, Krum entered, and five minutes after that, Delacour. Now all four champions were in the maze.

"Harry's gonna win," Mike said after a minute.

"No way. Cedric's way better," Owen replied instantly.

Bryt shook her head with a grin as the argument in front of them went on and she occupied herself with watching the maze. All that was left for them to do was wait.


	36. A Living Nightmare

For the first half hour after the champions were in the maze, Bryt talked happily with Hermione, Ron, Bill, and Mrs. Weasley and occasionally listened to her brothers and their friends arguing over whether Harry or Diggory was the better champion. Of course, she knew the third task would be just as dangerous as the first two, but Harry wasn't going in blindly this time. He had spent the last month in preparation. Bryt wasn't all that worried about Harry this time around.

At least, she wasn't until red sparks suddenly flew into the sky above the maze and Bryt was reminded of the detention she served in the forest her first year—red sparks had been the signal they were to give if they ran into trouble. Apparently it was the same here as a couple of the teachers, who had been walking constantly around the edge of the maze, started heading inside.

"I hope that's not Harry," Hermione said and Bryt gave a small nod in agreement.

A few minutes later, both teachers returned with both Krum and Delacour walking behind them. It was impossible to see their expressions from in the stands, but Bryt was sure both were upset at having been pulled from the task.

After that, Bryt began to worry and slipped her chipped bracelet off her wrist, starting to play with it between her hands. Even prepared, and several years older than Harry, both Krum and Delacour had to forfeit the task. Bryt started to wonder more and more how Harry was doing within the maze and if he would end up running into something he couldn't handle.

'_Well, as long as we don't see sparks, we know he's doin' okay,'_ Bryt told herself.

"Either way, Hogwarts will win now!" Kevin was saying happily in front of them, "Harry and Cedric were already tied for first place, and now since they're the only ones left in the maze, it's a given Hogwarts will win!"

"I bet Harry will get there first, though," Mike said with a quick nod of confidence, and once again, the group of first years began arguing.

"What d'you think they ran into that they couldn't handle?" Ron asked in a low voice, leaning closer towards Hermione and Bryt, as if he didn't want his mother, brother, or first years in front of them to overhear. Bryt shrugged in response.

"They probably have enchantments, barricades, and such," Bryt whispered back, "Or maybe a couple of creatures. It won't be anythin' Harry can't handle, though. We helped him prepare for anythin' he might go up against. That maze'll most likely be no more difficult than the obstacles we ran into our first year when we went after the Sorcerer's Stone."

"And we came through those perfectly fine," Hermione added, though she was watching the maze with a worried expression.

The wait after that was hard to sit through. Bryt's nerves were starting to get the better of her as she started thinking about what Harry would be going against in the maze. She constantly kept telling herself that they hadn't seen anyone send sparks up again, so Harry had to be doing fine. It did little to help, though.

It wasn't until another half hour passed that anything else happened. It was so quick that Bryt didn't notice at first, but others seemed to as an odd buzzing of questions started rising through the crowd. Bryt pushed herself up to stand on her chair and noticed two figures lying on the ground outside the maze. Bryt instantly knew it was Harry and Diggory—and that something was wrong.

"Mike, Drew, stay here," Bryt told her brothers before starting off through the stands with her friends, Mrs. Weasley, and Bill. They weren't alone. It seemed everyone was starting to head towards the entrance of the maze.

'_Please let them be okay, oh please, God, let them be okay...'_ Bryt thought over and over again, her heart pounding in her chest as she gripped her bracelet tightly in one hand.

Bryt couldn't see through the crowd as they got closer, so she asked Ron if he could see anything over the heads of the crowd.

"No," Ron said, sounding worried and standing on his toes, "I don't know what's going on."

"He's _dead_!" someone suddenly yelled up ahead, "Cedric Diggory! _Dead!_"

Bryt gripped onto Ron's arm, a cold wave of nausea washing over her and staring blankly in front of her, suddenly feeling as if her legs might give out under her. Diggory was dead? How was that possible? The Triwizard Tournament was supposed to have safeguards against this. How did it happen?

And what about Harry? Was he okay?

"We have to get up there," Ron said in a hollow voice, "We have to make sure Harry's okay."

Bryt started to nod, but then stopped herself.

"You head on," she said weakly, "I have to check on my brothers. I'll catch up later."

Ron and Hermione nodded, both understanding, and started fighting through the crowd after Mrs. Weasley and Bill, who're much further ahead already. Bryt turned from them and started back through the crowd, which was increasingly difficult as most people were trying to go the other way and Bryt felt as if she were moving through an endless fog after running a marathon. Her legs seemed like jelly and her breaths were coming short as her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She tried not to think about what happened, focusing only on one thing—to get to her little brothers.

It was a few minutes before Bryt finally broke through the crowd and was relieved to see Mike and Drew at the edge of the stands with their friends. Bryt instantly hurried over to them and noticed the entire group seemed terrified. Natalie was sitting on the ground, her face hidden in her knees, Owen and Kevin seemed as if they had been Petrified, and Mike and Drew were both ghostly pale—Drew even looked as Bryt felt, as if his legs might give way under him at any moment—and was gripping tightly to his brother's arm for support.

"Is...is it true?" Mike asked in a small voice, "They're saying Diggory's..."

"He can't be," Drew whispered, seeming in some kind of daze and didn't even seem to notice Bryt was there. Bryt couldn't find her voice. She didn't know what to say to her brothers—she doubted anything would be able to comfort them. Instead, she moved over, hugging both of her brothers close. She knew Drew admired Diggory greatly, and talked about how Diggory had helped him settle into Hogwarts at the beginning of the school year. She was sure that they all were effected greatly over what had just happened but Drew, most of all, probably felt just as Bryt had felt six years before when her grandparents had died—Horrified and numb, not wanting to believe it had just happened.

Very similar to how Bryt was feeling now. Her mind seemed in a haze and she didn't know what to think or what to do. Only that her brothers needed her right now. She was still holding them against her, as if that would somehow protect them from the truth, as she stared blankly at the stands and her brothers clung back, both of them shaking slightly. Bryt was only vaguely aware of the voices off behind her and footsteps starting across the grounds back towards the castle. She ignored it, continuing to hold her brothers. As long as they stood there and needed her, Bryt wasn't going to walk off on them.

"Bryt?"

Bryt looked over her shoulder and noticed Ron standing nearby, his face a ghostly white. Bryt suddenly felt a wave of dread, her mind instantly going to Harry.

"Is..." Bryt started, but couldn't finish the question and swallowed hard.

"Professor Moody's taken Harry up to the castle," Ron said weakly, "To the hospital wing, probably...He seemed okay, at least."

Bryt felt a small wave of relief, but also felt torn as she looked down at her brothers, both of whom were glancing between Bryt and Ron. Bryt wanted to head with Ron and go to the hospital wing, to see for herself that Harry was okay. But she also knew her brothers needed her. She wanted to stay with them as well.

"We'll understand if you stay with them," Ron said, as if sensing Bryt's thoughts, "Drew and Mike're your family. You always stick to family."

"Harry's family, too," Bryt pointed out in a weak voice. Harry and her may not have been related by blood, but Bryt considered him as much of a brother as Mike and Drew.

"Go on, Bryt," Drew whispered, his voice hoarse and hollow, "I...I'm okay...I have Kevin and Owen." Drew glanced over his shoulder towards his friends, "And the rest of the Hufflepuffs...I need to be with them..."

Mike nodded as well. "I need to take care of Natalie," he said simply, pulling away from Bryt and instantly going to his friend, squatting down in front of her and trying to get Natalie to look up. She didn't seem too willing to move, however.

Bryt felt an odd sense of pride going through her at how brave both of her brothers were in handling what had happened, and over their loyalty to their friends. Bryt hugged Drew close again, then squatted down and hugged Mike as well.

"If you need me, I'll be in the hospital wing," she whispered and both boys nodded before slowly heading off after the crowd still making their way across the Hogwarts ground—Mike seemed to be supporting Natalie, who was most likely in shock. Bryt watched them go, still feeling as if she were in a numbing daze, as she instinctively reached out and grasped Ron's hand, glad that he was there. It wouldn't even matter if Ron didn't say anything to her. She felt safer with him and knew she could rely on him. That's what mattered right now.

The walk through the castle helped Bryt start to clear her head and slowly begin to grasp what had happened. Something had to have gone wrong during the task and now Diggory was dead...Diggory, a fellow Hogwarts student and a Hufflepuff who had been so helpful to Drew over the past year, was dead...

"How could this have happened?" Bryt asked weakly.

"I don't know," Ron answered and the two fell silent again until they reached the hospital wing.

Mrs. Weasley and Bill were already there with Hermione, all three seeming to be asking Madam Pomfrey different questions at the same time. As Bryt and Ron got closer, Bryt looked around but couldn't see Harry. She was surprised and worried to see that Moody was lying on a nearby bed, though he seemed...different. He looked much thinner than he had only hours before and his hair seemed longer, though also badly chopped in some areas, as a child's would after they took a pair of scissors and tried to cut their own hair.

"What's goin' on?" Bryt asked in a whisper as she pulled Hermione to the side.

"We got here as Madam Pomfrey and Snape were bringing Professor Moody in," Hermione answered in a whisper, looking pale and as frightened as Bryt was feeling, "We overheard them talking. A Death Eater has actually been impersonating him all year and keeping him locked in a trunk."

Bryt tightened her grip around Ron's hand as she looked towards Moody unconscious on the nearby bed, his fake leg and magical eye on the nightstand beside him. She didn't know what was worse—the idea that she had been taught by a Death Eater for the past year, the fact that the Death Eater had fooled everyone, even Dumbledore, or thinking about what the real Moody must have gone though over the past year.

"Harry's not here, either," Hermione went on, "Madam Pomfrey says she doesn't know where he is."

"But...He's okay, isn't he?" Ron asked.

"As far as we know," Hermione said, though she didn't sound very sure of herself, "We saw him walking up to the castle—"

"But that had to have been with the fake Moody, the Death Eater," Ron said, his voice sounding weak and hollow, "What if—"

Bryt felt a wave of dread, but didn't get to think more on it as the door opened behind them and everyone spun around. Bryt's dread instantly went to relief as she noticed it was Dumbledore and Harry, along with a great black dog that Bryt instantly recognized as Sirius. It didn't surprise her that he would be here, not after what happened, though it brought up Bryt's usual guilt over the fact that Sirius was still a fugitive because she failed to capture Wormtail the year before. A second later, however, the relief and guilt went to worry as she noticed the dazed, empty look on Harry's face. Bryt couldn't imagine what he had to be going through right now. She wanted to head over and hug him—as she had when she noticed how distraught her brothers had been—but she seemed to still be in a slight daze over all that had happened and couldn't get herself to move. She was beginning to feel that if much more happened, her mind was going to shut down completely.

Mrs. Weasley started forward, but Dumbledore held her off.

"Molly," he said, "Please listen to me for a moment. Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. He has just had to relive it for me. What he needs now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If he would like you all to stay with him," Dumbledore paused, glancing around at the group, "You may do so. But I do not want you questioning him until he is ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

Mrs. Weasley nodded, then turned back towards Bryt, Hermione, Ron, and Bill, her face very white.

"Did you hear? He needs quiet!" she repeated, as if they had been talking loudly behind her.

"Headmaster," Madam Pomfrey said, looking at Sirius in his dog form, "May I ask what—"

"This dog will be remaining with Harry for a while," Dumbledore said, "I assure you, he is extremely well trained. Harry—I will wait while you get into bed. I will be back to see you as soon as I have met Fudge. I would like you to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school."

Dumbledore left with that and Madam Pomfrey hurried Harry to a nearby bed where she gave him a pair of pajamas and pulled the screen around him to allow him privacy to change.

Bryt and the others waited until they were sure Harry was in bed before coming over to him, pulling over chairs. Bryt pulled her own very close to Ron's, leaning against his side. It was comforting to her to be close to him, and have his arm around her. Until now, she hadn't realized how close she had been to collapsing. Everything seemed to be like an awful nightmare at the moment, and having Ron's arm protectively around her was comforting.

Though Bryt's mind was racing and she felt trapped in some nightmare, she more worried about Harry than herself at the moment. There was no telling what exactly he had gone through in the maze, though Bryt had the feeling he had seen whatever it was that happened to Diggory. Whatever it was, there was no doubt it had been a traumatic experience for Harry.

"I'm all right," Harry said, as if he knew what Bryt and the others were thinking, "Just tired."

Bryt doubted Harry was telling the truth, but she gave him a small grin that took a lot of effort for her to force. Mrs. Weasley looked as if she were close to tears and started smoothing down the covers around Harry as Madam Pomfrey came back with a goblet full of a purple-colored potion.

'_A sleepin' potion most likely,'_ Bryt told herself. After whatever it was Harry went through, Bryt knew Harry would need it.

"You'll need to drink all of this, Harry," Madam Pomfrey said, "It's a potion for dreamless sleep."

Harry had only taken a few sips before the potion was obviously taking effect and his head began to bob slightly. Mrs. Weasley took the goblet from Harry before he could drop it and placed it lightly on the nightstand as Harry slumped back in the bed, his expression peaceful in his sleep.

Bryt closed her own eyes, tuning out everyone around her. She didn't want to think about anything at the moment. Leaning against Ron, she wanted, just for a few moments, to pretend they were in the common room, working on homework or talking about Quidditch. She wanted to pretend Cedric Diggory wasn't dead and she hadn't learned that an escaped Death Eater had been teaching them at Hogwarts for the past year. She just wanted everything to go back to normal.

Unfortunately, it wasn't too long before Bryt was pulled from her daydreaming by the sounds of yelling just outside the hospital wing. Bryt looked up and turned halfway in her chair to look towards the door with Ron and Hermione as Bill and Mrs. Weasley stood up.

"I hope this doesn't wake Harry," Bryt whispered anxiously. He had gone through enough tonight already.

"What are they shouting about?" Bill asked, "Nothing else can have happened, can it?"

"Oh, God, I hope not," Bryt muttered.

The shouting got closer and they were soon able to make out who the voices belonged to.

"That's Fudge's voice," Mrs. Weasley said, "And that's Minerva McGonagall's, isn't it? But what are they arguing about?"

"Regrettable," Fudge's voice drifted loudly into the room, "But all the same, Minerva—"

"You should never have brought it inside the castle!" McGonagall was yelling, sounding much angrier than Bryt had ever heard her before, "When Dumbledore finds out—"

McGonagall never finished what she was going to say as she and the Minister of Magic both came into the room, both seeming furious, and Snape was right behind them. Bryt shuddered slightly at the sight of McGonagall's anger. She had been on the receiving end of her Transfiguration teacher's anger before—most notably in her first year when she was caught with Neville outside of the common room after hours—and it was never a good thing.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge snapped in a way as if he were demanding an answer instead of asking for one. Bryt glared at him. She had never liked Fudge much.

"He's not here," Mrs. Weasley said, obviously fighting hard not to raise her voice, "This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to—"

Mrs. Weasley didn't get to finish as the door opened again and Dumbledore came in. He stopped a few feet in, however, when he noticed McGonagall and Fudge.

"What happened?" Dumbledore asked, looking between the two, "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you—I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch—"

"There's no need to stand over him anymore, Dumbledore! The Minister has seen to that!"

Bryt exchanged a glance with Hermione and Ron. Barty Crouch had been the Death Eater? That didn't make sense. They knew enough of the man to know him being a Death Eater was about as likely as Dumbledore being one. Not to mention they had seen Crouch at the same time as the fake Moody a couple of times during the year—he couldn't have been the one impersonating Moody all year.

'_Wait, his son...'_ Bryt thought, remembering how Crouch had sent his own son to Azkaban for being accused of being a Death Eater—and the boy had shared the same name as his father. But wasn't Crouch Jr. supposed to be dead? Sirius had told them the boy had died not long after being taken to Azkaban. Had Sirius been wrong, and Crouch Jr. actually escaped? If so, how had he managed it?

"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," Snape said, pulling Bryt from her thoughts, "He seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch—"

"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!" McGonagall cut in and Bryt gave a small shudder at the idea of the dementor being in the castle. She knew well enough from the year before that dementors were the most unpleasant thing she could ever be around.

"I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle," McGonagall continued, "But—"

"My dear woman!" Fudge cut in, "As Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous—"

"The moment that—that thing entered the room," McGonagall raised her voice, drowning out Fudge's, "It swooped down on Crouch and—and—"

Bryt gripped onto Ron's arm, feeling nauseous. She knew exactly what had happened. The dementor had given Crouch Jr. a fate worse than death—it had sucked the man's soul from his body, leaving him an empty shell. Alive, but no longer a human being. No matter how bad the person, Bryt had always believed no one ever deserved to undergo a Dementor's Kiss.

"By all accounts, he is no loss!" Fudge snapped, "It seems he has been responsible for several deaths!"

"But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," Dumbledore said, an expression on his face that Bryt had never seen before on the man, "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."

"Why he killed them? Well, there's no mystery, is it? He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"

"Lord Voldemort _was_ giving him instructions, Cornelius," Dumbledore replied, "Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."

Bryt felt the sickening nausea again and heard Hermione make an odd noise next to her. Ron tightened his grip around Bryt's shoulders and Bryt glanced out of the corner of her eye to see Ron looking as if he might be sick or pass out. Bryt felt exactly the same, once more thinking of the cloaked figure she had seen years ago in the forest. She thought of the chaos during the Quidditch World Cup and the horror stories Sirius had told them of what it was like during Voldemort's last rise to power. She knew from Harry that Dumbledore believed Voldemort was trying to rise to power again, but to hear Dumbledore say he truly believed Voldemort had succeeded...

'_Please, oh please let this just be a nightmare,'_ Bryt thought, her heart pounding hard in her chest.

"You-Know-Who...returned?" Fudge's voice sounded muted, "Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore..."

"As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you," Dumbledore answered, "We heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort—learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins—went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."

"See here, Dumbledore," Fudge said, an odd expression crossing his face, "You can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who—back? Come now, come now...certainly, Crouch may have _believed_ himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders—but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore..."

"When Harry touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, he was transported straight to Voldemort. He witness Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office." Dumbledore paused to glance around and Bryt noticed he looked towards Harry on the bed behind them before looking back at Fudge. "I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry tonight."

"You are—er—prepared to take Harry's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?" Fudge asked, the odd look still on his face.

"Certainly I believe Harry," Dumbledore said instantly, "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Harry's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."

Fudge's odd grin remained and Bryt gripped her hands tightly, biting down on her tongue to hold back a rude comment.

"You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned on the word of a lunatic murderer and a boy who...well..."

Fudge looked towards Harry on his bed and Bryt glared at him, already knowing what he was talking about.

"You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge."

Bryt, Ron, and Hermione all jumped and spun around in their chairs to see Harry was awake and sitting up behind them, giving Fudge a harsh look. Bryt wondered how long Harry had been awake and how much he had heard.

"And if I have?" Fudge asked, turning back to Dumbledore, "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place—"

"I assume you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" Dumbledore cut in.

"You admit that he has been having these pains, then? Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly—hallucinations?"

Bryt tensed in her chair, glaring at Fudge. She couldn't believe he was accusing Harry of being insane—of imagining all the horrors he had gone through.

"Listen to me, Cornelius," Dumbledore said, his tone harsh and Bryt swallowed, glancing between Ron and Hermione. None of them have ever seen Dumbledore quite so angry before.

"Harry is as sane as you or I," Dumbledore continued, "That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."

Fudge stared at Dumbledore, his expression still holding that odd smile that made Bryt want to hit him more and more with each passing moment.

"You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before..."

"Look, I saw Voldemort come back!" Harry snapped, starting to get out of bed, but Mrs. Weasley pushed him back, "I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy—"

"Malfoy was cleared!" Fudge cut in, "A very old family—donations to excellent causes—"

'_More like payoffs,'_ Bryt thought sourly.

"Macnair!" Harry went on.

"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"

'_Yeah, killin' innocent creatures,'_ Bryt thought, remembering that Macnair had been the executioner assigned for Buckbeak's 'trial' at the end of their last school year.

"Avery—Nott—Crabbe—Goyle—"

"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago! You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heaven's save, Dumbledore—the boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too—his tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them—the boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?"

"You fool!" McGonagall snapped, "Cedric Diggory! Mr. Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"

"I see no evidence to the contrary!" Fudge yelled back, his face red with anger, "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for the last thirteen years!"

'_Merlin, how can he be so blind?'_ Bryt thought, gripping her hands into fists, _'All this evidence and he _still_ won't believe it?'_

"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeated, "If you accept that fact straightaway, Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors—"

"Preposterous!" Fudge interrupted, "Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in out beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"

"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them! They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"

Bryt closed her eyes, shaking her head and trying to push back the thought of dementors loose on the world. She thought about the hopeless feeling she had when she was around them, and couldn't imagine that being on a wide-scale, with dementors siding with Voldemort...

"The second step you must take—and at once," Dumbledore went on, his voice seeming oddly distant to Bryt as she pulled herself from her thoughts, "Is send envoys to the giants."

"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge asked in a high sort of voice, "What madness is this?"

"Extend to them the hand of friendship, now, before it's too late. Or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"

"You—you can't be serious!" Fudge's face seemed pale, "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants—people hate them, Dumbledore—end of my career—"

'_Is that all you care about?'_ Bryt thought bitterly, _'Your career?'_

"You are blinded," Dumbledore raised his voice, "By the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any—and see what that man chose to make of his life! I tell you now—take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act—and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"

"Insane..." Fudge muttered, "Mad..."

Bryt squeezed Ron's hand slightly, still glaring at Fudge. How could he be so blind? All the evidence was clearly there. Why was Fudge so determined to ignore it?

"If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius," Dumbledore said calmly, sounding as if he were stating a simple truth, "We have reached a parting of ways. You must act as you see fit. And I—I shall act as I see fit."

"Now see here, Dumbledore," Fudge said, straightening up, "I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me—"

"The only one against whom I intend to work is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."

For the first time, it seemed Fudge had no response, no excuse to counteract what Dumbledore was saying. He stood still for a moment, and when he spoke up, his voice was quiet.

"He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be..."

Suddenly, Bryt felt a wave of pity for Fudge. She started to think that Fudge's determination to ignore Dumbledore's warnings had nothing to do with just wanting to stay in office. She was beginning to believe that Fudge simply wanted to believe that Voldemort wasn't returning to power. He wanted to believe their lives were all still safe, that nothing was wrong. That was something Bryt couldn't blame him for, as she had found herself hoping the same thing. It still didn't change the fact that she also hated Fudge for constantly accusing Harry of being insane, however.

Snape moved towards Fudge and pushed up the sleeve of his robe. Bryt could easily see, from where she was sitting, what was on his arm and shuddered as she noticed it was a tattoo of the Dark Mark.

"There," Snape said coldly, "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had this sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Fudge took a step back, shaking his head. He turned from Snape, looking back at Dumbledore.

"I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."

Fudge started for the door and Bryt glared after him, but before Fudge left, he turned and headed to Harry's bed, dropping a bag on the nightstand. Bryt noticed it made an odd jingling sound.

"Your winnings," Fudge said sharply, "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances..."

Fudge left with that and Bryt, again, glared after him before turning back to Dumbledore.

"There is work to be done," Dumbledore said simply, looking towards Mrs. Weasley, "Molly...Am I right in thinking I can count on you and Arthur?"

"Of course you can," Mrs. Weasley said at once, then though her face was very pale, "We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."

"Then I need you to send a message to Arthur. All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius."

"I'll go to Dad," Bill said, "I'll go now."

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, "Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry—"

"Leave it to me," was all Bill said before kissing his mother on the cheek and leaving quickly.

"Minerva," Dumbledore said, turning towards McGonagall, "I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also—if she will consent to come—Madam Maxime."

McGonagall gave a small nod and left as Dumbledore turned to Madam Pomfrey.

"Poppy, would you be very kind and go down to Professor Moody's office, where I think you will find a house elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us."

'_Oh man, Winky...'_ Bryt thought as Madam Pomfrey hurried from the room. She couldn't imagine what poor Winky was going through at the moment.

Dumbledore stood quiet for a few moments before turning his attention back to the group.

"And now, it's time for two of our number to recognize each other for what they hare. Sirius...if you could resume your usual form."

Bryt turned towards Sirius as the man transformed from his dog form back to human. In all the commotion, she had forgotten he was in the room. Mrs. Weasley suddenly screamed and jumped back.

"Mum, shut up! It's okay!"

Bryt elbowed Ron hard in the side, giving him a sharp look. Telling his mother to shut up was definitely one of the more disrespectful things he had done over the years.

"Him!" Snape snapped, looking furious, "What is he doing here?"

"He is here at my invitation," Dumbledore said, "As are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other."

Bryt fought back a laugh. Snape and Sirius trusting each other was something that would never happen, something proven by the looks of pure hatred Snape and Sirius were giving each other.

"I will settle, in the short term," Dumbledore said sternly, "For the lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth stand united, there is no hope for any of us."

Sirius and Snape continued to glare at each other, but reached out and clasped hands for barely half a second before letting go again.

"That will do to begin with," Dumbledore said simply, moving forward, "Now, I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher—the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while; I will contact you there."

"But..." Harry started and Bryt could see from his expression that he didn't want Sirius to leave.

"You'll see me again very soon, Harry," Sirius said, "I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don't you?"

"Yeah...Yeah...Of course I do."

Sirius took Harry's hand for a second before giving Dumbledore a small nod and transforming into a dog again and leaving, using a paw to open the door. Bryt's guilt started worming back again as she couldn't help but think that Sirius wouldn't have to disguise himself and lie low if he were a free man.

'_Like Hermione said, me catchin' Wormtail probably wouldn't've changed anythin','_ Bryt thought weakly, but, as before, she didn't quite believe it.

"Severus," Dumbledore went on, turning to Snape now, "You know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready...If you are prepared..."

"I am," Snape said simply, but there was an odd edge to his voice and he seemed paler than usual.

"Then good luck," Dumbledore said as Snape left the room, leaving Dumbledore alone with them. Silence fell over the group and Bryt bit her lip slightly, glancing around at her friends, Dumbledore, and Mrs. Weasley.

"I must go downstairs," Dumbledore finally spoke up again, "I must see the Diggorys. Harry—take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later."

As Dumbledore left and Bryt, Hermione, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley all looked back to Harry, silence fell over them again. Bryt leaned back against Ron, her mind going to what the Diggorys must be going through now. Bryt remembered how horrible it had been for her to lose her grandparents when she was younger, but she had a feeling that it couldn't quite compare to someone losing their only child...Not to mention Bryt had only been nine when her grandparents died. She had been in the hospital room when her grandmother passed—due to her own stubbornness and insistence that she was 'old enough to handle it'—and the metallic wailing of the heart monitor flat lining was in Bryt's nightmares for months afterward. But still, she had been young, and hadn't lived with her grandparents on a daily basis. It hadn't been too long before she had accepted what happened and grew used to the fact her grandparents wouldn't visit anymore. She imagined it would be a lot harder for parents to deal with the loss of their son.

"You've got to take the rest of your potion, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said quietly and Bryt jerked from her thoughts, glancing towards Ron's mother as she picked up the goblet with the potion, "You have a good long sleep. Try and think about something else for a while...thing about what you're going to buy with your winnings!"

"I don't want that gold," Harry muttered, "You have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn't have won. It should've been Cedric's."

An odd tone overtook Harry's voice at that moment and he made a face, as if he were fighting against something. Bryt glanced away, having a good feeling that Harry was fighting back tears.

"It wasn't your fault, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said quietly.

"I told him to take the cup with me."

Understanding and guilt washed over Bryt and she stared off towards the window. Harry was blaming himself for Cedric's death—just as Bryt blamed herself for Sirius still being a fugitive. Bryt understood exactly what Harry felt like at the moment. And the worst part was she couldn't even tell him, to help comfort him, because he would most likely hate her for what she did.

Something started moving on the window nearby and Bryt straightened up, staring at it curiously, then her eyes widened as she noticed it was a bug.

'_Skeeter!'_ Bryt thought instantly, _'This is the last thing we need!'_

She nudged Hermione next to her and nodded towards the window. Hermione followed her gaze and seemed to instantly understand. Hermione got to her feet and slowly made her way to the window, slamming her hand down, but Bryt noticed her hand was cupped so Hermione would trap Skeeter instead of smash her.

'_Though she'd deserve a good smashin','_ Bryt thought.

"Your potion, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said softly, handing the goblet to Harry again.

Harry took the goblet and swallowed down what was left of the potion, starting to fall back asleep instantly. Bryt watched him, leaning against Ron again, glad for his comfort next to her. She knew things were going to be different from now on, now that Voldemort was rising to power again. All she could do was hope that they could stop him before things went too far.


	37. Letters and Memories

Bryt sat in the Gryffindor common room, her quill gripped in her hand as she stared at what she had so far on the letter she had been trying to write for the past half hour:

_Mom and Dad,_

Bryt continued to stare at the only three words she had written so far. It had been a miracle that Diggory's death hadn't been reported in the _Daily Prophet_ the past two days, but Bryt knew it was only a matter of time. Not to mention her father was very good friends with Mr. Weasley. Her parents were going to find out what happened sooner or later, no matter how badly Bryt wished otherwise, and Bryt knew that it would be better if the news came from her.

She just didn't know how to handle it. How in the world was she supposed to tell her parents that a student had been killed the night before? And that a man who caused such horror and chaos was trying to rise to power once again?

"Maybe you should put that off a bit."

Bryt looked up at the whisper and met Ron's gaze from where he was looking up from his chess game with Harry. Bryt just shook her head, not saying anything. After Harry had gotten back from the hospital wing the hour before, the four had come to an unspoken understanding not to talk about what happened. Harry obviously wasn't ready to tell them, and they knew it wouldn't help to bring up any reminder. They had only touched on it briefly when Harry first came back, when Ron told them that his mother wanted Harry to come straight to the Burrow for the summer, but Dumbledore wanted Harry to return to the Dursleys first, at least temporarily.

Dumbledore had told the school at breakfast the morning before to leave Harry alone, and the school seemed to be taking that to heart. Even Gryffindors were giving them a wide berth at the moment, where only Mike and Natalie staying close by. Bryt was glad to see they were both doing better, but were still much quieter than usual. They were sitting at the end of the table, playing a game of Exploding Snap, even though they didn't seem to be that into the game.

Bryt looked over at Hermione, who was curled up in an armchair with the two-way diary she shared with Julio perched in her lap. Hermione had explained to Julio the day before what had happened, and the two were spending every moment they could now writing to each other through the diary.

Bryt sighed and looked back down at her letter. She dipped her quill into ink again and her hand hovered over the parchment for several moments before she finally lowered the quill and started writing.

_Something's happened here at Hogwarts. It's something bad. Don't worry, Mike, Drew, and I are fine._

Bryt crossed out the last sentence. In no way were they fine.

_Don't worry, Mike, Drew, and I haven't been hurt._

'_Physically,' _Bryt mentally added. How she worded it now would have to do, however. She sighed, running a hand through her hair before she put her quill to parchment again and hesitated for another minute before continuing.

_This will be difficult to explain. I would rather tell you this in person, but something like this will most likely end up in the Daily Prophet soon enough, and I would rather this come from me._

_A student was killed. Cedric Diggory. You've probably heard a lot about him from Drew, since he was in Hufflepuff. Drew's dealing with everything okay. Besides me and Mike, Drew has his friends and the entire Hufflepuff house to rely on._

Bryt stopped to dip her quill into the ink again, and also trying to figure out how to word the next part. This was definitely something that Bryt never wanted her parents to know about, but it would be inevitable with Mr. Watkins' interest in reading the _Daily Prophet_ and his friendship with Mr. Weasley.

_It's better coming from me exactly who killed Diggory as well. I know both of you know the stories of Voldemort, and how he's supposed to be dead, but that's not true. He's back, he's the reason Diggory is dead._

Bryt paused in her writing again, trying to imagine how her parents would react when they read that. Her father was so easy-going, not much bothered him, but Bryt still remembered the horrified look he had when he first heard the stories of Voldemort when he wanted to read one of the books Bryt used for History of Magic. Mrs. Watkins was extremely overprotective, and Bryt could easily picture her mother insisting that Bryt, Mike, and Drew all be withdrawn from enrollment at Hogwarts. Bryt knew that would be the worst thing that would happen. She dipped her quill into ink again and went back to her letter.

_I know what you're thinking, Mom, and taking of out of Hogwarts will not change the fact that Voldemort is back. In fact, Mike, Drew, and I are safest when we are here. We have Professor Dumbledore, and he's widely known as the only person Voldemort ever feared. As long as Dumbledore is in charge of Hogwarts, we're safe here._

_Everything will be fine, Mom, Dad. Dumbledore is already working to stop Voldemort before he rises to the type of power he had before, and I'm sure he can do it._

At least, Bryt hoped that he would be able to. She wasn't about to admit her doubts to her parents, though. She was worrying them enough as it was.

_Mike, Drew, and I will be okay. Hogwarts will always remain the safest place for us to be. And you two will be protected, I'm sure. I bet Mr. Weasley will help make sure of that. Trust me when I say everything will be fine._

_Bryt_

Bryt put down her quill with a sigh. She felt she could probably word the letter a lot better than she had, that she could have done something better to make the news easier to take, but she had no idea how. Bryt sat back, letting the ink on her letter dry as she watched Harry and Ron play chess.

Bryt sent off her letter that night, but didn't receive a response until the following Thursday. Bryt had to let Joey in through the common room window, as she, Ron, Hermione, and Harry were avoiding going to the Great Hall while it was crowded.

As Bryt opened the letter, she noticed instantly that it was her father who wrote it, and the reason why became apparent as she read it:

_Bryt,_

_I trust your judgment on your and your brothers' safety, and that of me and Amelia. You know far more of the magical world than your mother and I ever could, no matter how much I try to learn. Your mother is having a harder time taking this in, however. After we first read your letter, she wanted to bring you three home, despite your reassurance that Hogwarts is safe. From stories you've told me, as well as things I've learned from Arthur, I think you're right. I will try and talk Amelia down, but it's hard at the moment. She gets tense and refuses to talk any time I mention it. But she'll come around in time._

_Take care of your brothers, Bryt. If what you told is really is true, they'll need you to watch over them._

_Love, Dad_

Bryt sighed. She hoped her father was right about getting her mother to come around on her opinion on what had happened. She was afraid that, if Mrs. Watkins couldn't be persuaded, she might become like Sofí and Julio's mother—uncomfortable, maybe even fearful, of the wizarding world. Bryt didn't want that to happen. She didn't want her mother to resent the world her children were a part of.

Bryt put away her letter, not mentioning anything to Harry, Ron, or Hermione—though she noticed Hermione was giving her a worried look. Bryt just nodded slightly to Harry, glad he was absorbed in his chess match with Ron to notice them. They were still in their unspoken rule to not bring up anything that would remind Harry of what happened, and Bryt's letter from home definitely fell under the category of reminding him. Not that any of them thought that Harry didn't think about it enough as it was. Bryt was sure he was thinking about it constantly. She had first-hand knowledge of both watching someone die, and how guilt could always be on one's mind. And what tore Bryt up the most was she couldn't talk to Harry about the second part without admitting her mistake the year before. Bryt's own fear of how Harry would react kept her keeping it to herself.

At least they were able to talk about it some with Hagrid. With the Defense Against the Dark Arts class canceled, the four took the time to go down the Hagrid's hut to talk with him for the first time since the day of the final task. Hagrid seemed thrilled to see them, pulling Harry into a hug before leading them inside. Bryt noticed two of Hagrid's over-sized mugs were on the table already.

"Bin havin' a cuppa with Olympe," Hagrid said, seeing the group looking towards the table, "She's jus' left."

"Who?" Bryt and Ron asked together.

"Madam Maxime, o' course!"

Bryt grinned, glad it seemed that Hagrid and Madam Maxime were getting along well again. When Ron asked about it, though, Hagrid feigned innocence and changed the subject by offering them tea and very doughy cookies, which was fine with Bryt as she liked eating raw cookie dough.

As the group settled into their seats, Bryt noticed Hagrid watching Harry closely.

"You all righ'?" Hagrid asked.

"Yeah," Harry answered instantly.

"No, yeh're not. 'Course yeh're not. But yeh will be."

Harry stayed quiet.

"He's right," Bryt said, "It took a long time for me after my grandparents died, but I eventually got okay again. I know it's not the same nearly the same, but I think I can understand at least a small bit of what you're goin' through."

Again, Harry didn't say anything. Bryt ran a hand through her hair, not knowing what else she could say without admitting to her mistake with Wormtail. Even if Bryt wasn't so terrified of the thought of Harry and Ron both hating her for it, Bryt knew that Harry didn't need that news added to everything else he was going through at the moment.

"Knew he was goin' ter come back," Hagrid said and Bryt, Ron, Harry, and Hermione all stared at Hagrid in surprise, "Known it fer years, Harry. Knew he was out there, bidin' his time. It had ter happen. Well, now it has, an' we'll jus' have ter get on with it. We'll fight. Migh' be able ter stop him before he gets a good hold. That's Dumbledore's plan, anyway. Great man, Dumbledore. 'S long as we've got him, I'm not worried."

With Hagrid saying it out loud, Bryt felt a lot more comfortable about writing it to her parents days before. It wasn't that she didn't believe Dumbledore would be able to stop Voldemort, it was just a relief to hear an adult say it as well.

"No good sittin' worryin' abou' it," Hagrid went on, "What's comin' will come, an' we'll meet it when it does. Dumbledore told me wha' you did, Harry. Yeh did as much as yer father would've done, an' I can' give yeh no higher praise than that."

Harry smiled, which was a relief for Bryt. It was the first time she'd seen Harry smile in over a week.

"What's Dumbledore asked you to do, Hagrid?" Harry asked, "He sent Professor McGonagall to ask you and Madam Maxime to meet him—that night."

"Got a little job fer me over the summer. Secret, though. I'm not s'pposed ter talk abou' it, no, not even ter you lot. Olympe—Madam Maxime ter you—might be comin' with me. I think she will. Think I got her persuaded."

"Is it to do with Voldemort?" Harry asked, and Hagrid and Ron flinched at the name.

"Migh' be," Hagrid said, then quickly changed the subject again.

**xxxxx**

Bryt looked around the dormitory to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. All that was left was one of her scrapbooks that had been nearly kicked under her bed. Bryt picked the book up and sat down, deciding to look through it to make sure none of the pictures had been dislodged—even though they shouldn't have with the charm Hermione had taught her to hold the pictures in place.

The first was of Bryt and her friends at the Quidditch World Cup—before the match took place. Hermione was leaning against Julio, with his arms around her waist and her hands over his, Harry had an embarrassed look on his face and rubbing the back of his neck—after all, he was never that comfortable getting his picture taken—and Ron was looking annoyed and gripping his hands tightly to that ugly shamrock hat while Bryt had kept trying to reach up and pull the thing off his head.

Bryt grinned at the memory, at how she kept complaining about that hat and thought it looked horrible on Ron. It felt like a lifetime ago instead of only a year. Bryt found herself wishing they could just go back in time to that moment. Go back to before the Triwizard Tournament, before the chaos that happened at the World Cup. She wanted to forget about all the bad things that had happened that year, to go back to before all of that happened.

Bryt turned the page to a picture of her brothers in their Hogwarts robes, both smiling brightly where they were sitting on the train at the beginning of the year.

'_The year hasn't been all bad,'_ Bryt reminded herself, turning a few more pages and finding one of Bryt and her friends at the Yule Ball. Her brothers joined Hogwarts, and Bryt had realized her feelings for Ron—and even was able to begin a relationship with him. Despite the bad, there had been plenty of good in the year, too.

"Bryt?"

Bryt looked up to see Hermione in the doorway, Crookshanks in her arms.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, fine," Bryt said, closing her scrapbook and putting it in her trunk before closing it, "Just finishin' up my pakin'."

"It's like Hagrid said," Hermione said slowly, "Things will be okay again in time."

"I know," Bryt said, sighing and sitting on her bed again, "It's not really what happened that's botherin' me so much—not that it's not botherin' me at all. I can't get what happened out of my head. It's just..." Bryt sighed again, running a hand through her hair, accidentally pulling her headband off in the process. She gripped it in her hand and started playing with the knot. "I feel trapped. I know exactly how Harry feels, with his guilt over not bein' able to save Diggory..."

Bryt trailed off, keeping her gaze down at the knot of her headband scarf as she slowly tried to undo it.

"Because of Sirius?" Hermione asked quietly, "I've told you, Bryt, that wasn't your fault. Even if you caught Wormtail, things probably wouldn't have changed."

"I know that," Bryt whispered, "But it doesn't change anythin'. I still feel guilty. And I feel horrible now 'cause I can't talk to Harry about it. I know exactly how he's feelin', but I can't tell him. I can't help him. He'll hate me for what I did. He and Ron both. And I can't take that."

Hermione came over, sitting next to Bryt on the bed, holding Crookshanks in her lap.

"They won't hate you, Bryt," she said, "Harry and Ron are our friends, and Ron obviously loves you. They'll understand. This wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was," Bryt said, "I could have stopped Wormtail from escapin', but all I saw was that damn rat I'd been terrified of for years. I couldn't get over a stupid fear for three seconds."

"They'll understand, Bryt," Hermione said again, "You should just talk to them."

"It's not that simple. I can't," Bryt said quietly, standing up and tying her scarf back around her head again, "I'm goin' down to breakfast."

Bryt left before Hermione could say anything else. In the back of her mind, she knew Hermione was right. She should tell Harry and Ron what happened. But she was terrified of both of them hating her for it. She couldn't lose her friendship with them.

'_I just can't tell them,'_ Bryt told herself. No matter how much it tore her up that she couldn't tell Harry about knowing what he was going through with his guilt, she was more terrified of him hating her for allowing Wormtail to escape, and at not at least giving Sirius a chance at freedom. This was just something she would have to deal with on her own.

* * *

**A/N:** This was originally going to be the final chapter on this story, continuing on through the trip back home on the Hogwarts Express, but the more I wrote on this, the more I realized this part would be much better as a stand-alone chapter. So there's still one more chapter to go before Bryt's fourth year comes to an end.


	38. Heading Home

The Leaving Feast was much quieter than usual. There was no excited talking and celebration over the House Cup winner, no decorations for the winning House. Instead, the banners were plain and black in respect for Cedric Diggory.

Mike, once again, sat next to Bryt at the Gryffindor table, Natalie sitting on his other side. Bryt looked over to the Hufflepuff table—where most everyone was silent, their heads down—and noticed Drew between his two friends, poking at his food but not eating. Bryt knew he was doing better over the past week, but also knew it would be a while before he was back to normal.

Bryt looked up towards the staff table and noticed the real Moody was there, but very twitchy, jumping at the slightest noise. Bryt couldn't help but think it would probably have been better on his nerves to stay in the hospital wing for a while longer.

Madam Maxime was at the table, talking with Hagrid next to her, but Bryt noticed Karkaroff was still missing. Most likely still on the run from Death Eaters.

"The end of another year," Dumbledore said, and Bryt looked over to see he had stood up. Bryt hadn't noticed as the Great Hall was already mostly silent, so there hadn't been the usual hushing of voices as Dumbledore stood for his speech.

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," Dumbledore continued, "But I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," Dumbledore paused with a gesture towards the Hufflepuff table, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."

Bryt rose with the rest of the school, raising her goblet and joined in the echoing mumbles of "Cedric Diggory" and took a sip of her drink, though she didn't taste any of it. Dumbledore waited until everyone sat back down before continuing.

"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff House," he said, "He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, and valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

Frightened whispers went through the Great Hall as students began staring at Dumbledore in disbelief and horror. Mike, next to Bryt, gripped onto the sleeve of Bryt's robe, his face paling again. Bryt had taken Mike and Drew aside and explained what happened to them the day after the third task, and how she was going to write a letter home to explain it to their parents, but she knew it still had to be frightening for them to hear it from Dumbledore as well. Bryt glanced back to the Hufflepuff table again and saw Drew playing with his glasses, his head still down.

"The Ministry of Magic does not wish me to tell you this," Dumbledore went on, "It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so—either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

Everyone was staring at Dumbledore in mute horror, and Bryt couldn't blame them. She clearly remembered how she felt at the first hints of Voldemort's return, and how she felt the night Dumbledore confirmed that he believed Voldemort had indeed returned.

"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death," Dumbledore said, "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."

It seemed as if every student turned at once to glance at Harry before looking back at Dumbledore. Harry dropped his head, obviously uncomfortable with the attention.

"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore went on, "He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him."

Once again, Bryt stood with the other students, joined in the chorused "Harry Potter", and took a sip of her drink. She was not surprised to see that almost the entire Slytherin table stayed seated, however.

"The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding," Dumbledore said when everyone returned to their seats, "In the light of what has happened—of Lord Voldemort's return—such ties are more important than ever before."

Dumbledore paused to look towards Madam Maxime, then scanned the Great Hall where Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were scattered across the room at various tables.

"Every guest in this Hall will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come," Dumbledore said, "I say to you all, once again—in light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

"It is my belief—and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken—that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst."

Bryt glanced towards the Hufflepuff table, where half had their heads bowed, and the other half were staring at Dumbledore.

"Remember Cedric," Dumbledore went on, "Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."

**xxxxx**

The weather was sunny and warm on the last day at Hogwarts, as if nature were mocking the dreary moods of the students as they waited for the carriages that would take them to the Hogsmeade station. Bryt stood with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, staying a little away from the rest of the students. Mike and Drew where somewhere in the crowd with their friends. Bryt had offered to let them sit with her on the ride back home, but they both insisted they needed to stay with their friends.

"'Arry!"

Bryt looked up to see Delacour making her way towards them, attracting the stares of guys as she passed. She grinned as she came to a stop in front of the quartet. Bryt realized this was the closest she had been to the French witch since the second task when Bryt had rushed to check on Harry and Ron after they came from the lake.

"We will see each uzzer again, I 'ope," Delacour said, holding out her hand to Harry, "I am 'oping to get a job 'here to improve my Eenglish."

"It's very good already," Ron said eagerly and Bryt elbowed him hard in the side, shooting her boyfriend a glare. She knew he was just reacting to Delacour's veela charm, but it didn't change the fact that she still got annoyed over it—despite the countless times she told herself that Ron couldn't help himself.

"Good-bye, 'Arry," Delacour said with another grin, "It 'az been a pleasure meeting you!"

Bryt fought the urge to roll her eyes as Delacour headed off across the courtyard. She had promised herself to try and think better of the French witch. That she couldn't be as cruel and stuck-up as she appeared to be. Still, it was like an old, bad habit. She was having trouble changing her thoughts completely.

"Wonder how the Durmstrang students are getting back," Ron said after a moment, "D'you reckon they can steer that ship without Karkaroff?"

"Karkaroff did not steer. He stayed in his cabin and let us do the vork."

Bryt and her friends turned to see Krum had come over to them now. Again, Bryt watched Krum closely, and, like with Delacour, was aware of the fact this was the closest she had been to him since the second task. She was also reminded of the distrust she had felt towards him for being from Durmstrang, but, like Delacour, she had a feeling that she was judging the man too harshly. Krum probably wasn't nearly as bad as he seemed due to the Durmstrang reputation.

"I liked Diggory," Krum said, "He vos alvays polite to me. Alvays. Even though I vos from Durmstrang—with Karkaroff."

As Krum gave a disgusted look at the mention of his headmaster, Bryt was more positive than ever that she had misjudged the man simply for the school he had gone to.

"Have you got a new headmaster yet?" Harry asked.

Krum shrugged. He shook Harry and Ron's hand and started to leave when Ron suddenly blurted out asking for his autograph. Bryt shook her head, clamping her hand over her mouth as she tried not to laugh while Krum signed a scrap of parchment for Ron.

**xxxxx**

Bryt was grateful that she and her friends had a compartment to themselves on the train ride home. Joey and Hedwig sat silently in their cages, their heads buried under a wing as they slept. Ron had thrown his dress robes over Pigwidgeon's cage again to keep the owl quiet. Bryt sat sideways in her seat, her feet propped up against the wall, and leaning back against Ron's side, her hands clasped around one of Ron's as he had an arm wrapped around her waist. Harry and Hermione were sitting on the opposite seat with Crookshanks curled up next to Hermione.

Their usual excited talk of summer and Quidditch was replaced with somber seriousness, however. Harry seemed to finally come to terms with what had happened, at least enough to talk about it.

Harry told them how Barty Crouch Jr., still disguised as Moody, took him up to Moody's office to try and get information out of him about what happened at the graveyard, then tried to kill him, but Dumbledore had gotten there with McGonagall and Snape. He told them that Dumbledore used Veritaserum to learn how Crouch Jr. had escaped Azkaban by the use of Polyjuice Potion and switching places with his mother. Crouch Jr. had been held prisoner in his own house by his father, with Winky taking care of him, until Voldemort came and freed him, putting Crouch Sr. under the Imperious Curse in turn. Harry said the night he saw Crouch Sr. in the forest, Crouch Jr. had killed him, transfiguring his body into a bone and burying it.

He told them that that Crouch Jr. made sure that Delacour and Krum were out of the running in the maze. How he had turned the Triwizard Cup into a portkey, one that had taken him to a graveyard where Wormtail and Voldemort were waiting. Bryt tightened her grip around Ron's hand as Harry told them about how Wormtail had killed Cedric on Voldemort's orders and helped with the enchantment that brought Voldemort back to his own body.

'_Damn it,'_ Bryt thought, _'Why didn't I grab that squirmy bastard?'_

Bryt caught Hermione looking over at her, and Bryt could tell instantly from that expression what Hermione was thinking. It was the same thing she had been telling Bryt most all year. What was happening wasn't Bryt's fault. Even if Bryt had grabbed Wormtail, he most likely would have escaped some other way. Either transforming to human to attack Bryt as he had Ron, biting her hand to make her let go, or escaping from Ministry custody later. Wormtail would have escaped some way and gone back to Voldemort no matter what happened.

'_Doesn't mean I don't feel so damn guilty,'_ Bryt thought, looking down at her hands around Ron's to avoid Hermione's gaze. She could have at least _tried_.

Harry went on to tell them about Voldemort summoning the Death Eaters, then forcing Harry into a duel with him. His voice started to break slightly, and he got a far off look on his face, as he began describing what happened next.

Harry explained how his and Voldemort's wands connected, and ghostly echoes of Cedric, Bertha Jorkins, an old Muggle groundskeeper and Harry's parents came out of the wand—Harry said Dumbledore explained it was because his and Voldemort's wands shared cores and it forced Voldemort's wand to show echos of the spells it had cast in reverse order. He told them Cedric wanted Harry to take his body back to his parents, and that they helped hold Voldemort off long enough for Harry to get back to Cedric and the Triwizard Cup.

A long silence fell over the group as Harry finished. Bryt still started down at her hands around Ron's, trying to take in what Harry had told them. She knew what her friend had gone through had to have been hard and traumatic, but the truth was far worse than anything Bryt could have imagined.

Harry had taken so long in his explaining what happened that the lunch trolley had arrived outside their compartment. Hermione offered to pay and stood up to get several cauldron cakes for all four of them. As she came back, Bryt decided to take out her copy of the _Daily Prophet_, deciding that since Harry had been open about his story finally, that he would be more open to checking the paper for news.

"There still isn't anythin' about Diggory or Voldemort," Bryt said as Hermione sat back down, ignoring Ron's wince at the name, "I thought there'd be _somethin'_ in the news by now. I guess Fudge's keepin' it quiet."

"He'll never keep Rita quiet," Harry said, "Not on a story like this."

"Oh, we won't have to worry about her," Bryt said, exchanging a glance with Hermione, "We made sure of that."

"She won't be writing anything for a while," Hermione added with a nod, grinning brightly, "Not unless she wants us to spill the beans on _her_."

"What're you two talking about?"

"We found out how Skeeter was gettin' her stories and interviewin' Slytherins when she wasn't supposed to be on the grounds," Bryt said, "She's an unregistered Animagus."

Hermione pulled a jar out of her bag as Bryt spoke, holding it out to show Harry and Ron. Inside were a few leaves and a small beetle with an odd design around its antenna. Bryt straightened up and swung his legs out of the seat as Ron leaned closer to the jar for a better look.

"She can turn herself into a beetle," Hermione said, "Bryt made me realize it when she said there was a bug on the window the day Harry passed out in Divination."

Harry and Ron both stared intently at the jar for a moment.

"And there was a beetle on the statue the night we heard Hagrid tell Madam Maxime about his mum!" Harry said.

"So when we saw Malfoy under that tree..." Ron started.

"He had Skeeter in his hand," Bryt finished with a nod, "It's how she's been gettin' those interviews from the Slytherins. They wouldn't care that Skeeter was doin' anythin' illegal. As long as they could help her ruin peoples' reputations."

"We told her we'd let her out when we get back to London," Hermione said, "I've put an Unbreakable Charm on the jar, you see, so she can't transform. And I've told her she's to keep her quill to herself for a whole year. See if she can't break the habit of writing horrible lies about people."

Hermione put the jar back in her bag, smiling to herself.

"Very clever, Granger, Watkins."

Bryt, Hermione, Ron, and Harry looked up to see Malfoy standing in the doorway with Crabbe and Goyle. Bryt glared at them, slipping her hand into her bag for her wand, having a strong feeling she'd need it.

"So," Malfoy said with a smirk, "You caught some pathetic reporter, and Potter's Dumbledore's favorite boy again. Big deal."

Malfoy paused to look over at Harry, still smirking, and Bryt gripped her hand tighter around her wand in her bag.

"Trying not to think about it, are we?" Malfoy asked, glancing around the compartment now, "Trying to pretend it hasn't happened?"

"Piss off, Malfoy," Bryt snapped.

Malfoy glared at Bryt for a moment, then turned back to Harry, seeming to decide it more worth his time to taunt Harry instead of Bryt.

"You've picked the losing side, Potter! I warned you! I told you you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around riffraff like this!" Malfoy motioned to Hermione, Ron, and Bryt—Bryt tensed, pulling her wand slightly out of her bag. "Too late now, Potter! They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's back! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first! Well—second—Diggory was f—"

Bryt was on her feet in a second, aiming her wand at Malfoy and snapping out the first hex that came to mind. She wasn't the only one, however. Hermione, Ron, and Harry had done the same. The different hexes hitting at once seemed to cause a small explosion, leaving Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in an odd heap on the floor. Bryt noticed Fred and George in the doorway as well. Apparently they had shown up and added their own hexes to the mix as well.

"Thought we'd see what those three were up to," Fred said, pocketing his wand.

"Interesting effect," George added, staring at Crabbe, "Who used the Furnunculus Curse?"

"Me," Harry answered.

"Odd. I used Jelly-Legs. Looks as though those two shouldn't be mixed. He seems to have sprouted little tentacles all over his face. Well, let's not leave them here, they don't add much to the decor."

Harry, Ron, and George pushed Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle into a nearby empty compartment. After they were back, Fred and George decided to stay to play a few rounds of Exploding Snap. Hermione decided not to participate, though, and went to read a book. They played mostly in silence for a few hours before Harry finally brought up something that Bryt had almost forgotten about with all that had happened the past few weeks.

"You going to tell us, then? Who you were blackmailing?" Harry asked, watching Fred and George.

"Oh. _That_," George said.

"It doesn't matter," Fred said, "It wasn't anything important. Not now, anyway."

"We've given up."

Bryt wasn't intent on leaving it at that, and neither were Harry, Ron, nor Hermione. They kept asking until the twins finally gave in.

"All right, all right, if you really want to know...It was Ludo Bagman."

Bryt blinked in surprise.

"Bagman?" Harry asked, "Are you saying he was involved in—"

"Nah, nothing like that," George cut in, "Stupid git. He wouldn't have the brains."

"Well, what, then?" Ron asked.

Fred and George exchanged a glance before deciding to answer.

"You remember that bet we had with him at the Quidditch World Cup? About Ireland would win, but Krum would get the Snitch?"

"Yeah?" Bryt, Harry, and Ron chorused.

"Well, the git paid us in leprechaun gold he'd caught from the Irish mascots."

"So it was gone by the next mornin'," Bryt said, "Maybe it was a mistake. Leprechaun gold's nearly impossible to distinguish between regular galleons."

"Yeah, that's what we thought at first," George said with a short laugh, "We thought if we just wrote to him, and told him he'd made a mistake, he'd cough up. But nothing doing. Ignored our letter. We kept trying to talk to him about it at Hogwarts, but he was always making some excuse to get away from us."

"In the end, he turned pretty nasty," Fred picked up the story now, "Told us we were too young to gamble, and he wasn't giving us anything."

"So we asked for our money back."

"He refused?" Bryt asked.

"Right in one," Fred answered bitterly.

"But that was all your savings!" Ron said, shocked.

"Tell me about it," George said, "'Course, we found out what was going on in the end. Lee Jordan's dad had a bit of trouble getting money off Bagman as well. Turns out he's in big trouble with the goblins. Borrowed loads of gold off them. A gang of them cornered him in the woods after the World Cup and took all the gold he had, and it still wasn't enough to cover all his debts. They followed him all the way to Hogwarts to keep an eye on him. He's lost everything gambling. Hasn't got to Galleons to rub together. And you know how the idiot tried to pay the goblins back?"

"How?"

"He put a bet on you, mate," Fred said, "Put a big get on you to win the tournament. Bet against the goblins."

"So _that's_ why he kept trying to help me win! Well—I did win, didn't I? So he can pay you your gold!"

"Nope," George said with a shake of his head, "The goblins play as dirty as him. They said you drew with Diggory, and Bagman was betting you'd win outright. So Bagman had to run for it. He did run for it right after the third task."

The conversation about Bagman ended with that, and they returned to their game of cards. The rest of the trip seemed to fly by too quickly, and the Hogwarts Express was soon pulling to a stop at platform nine and three-quarters. Bryt and her friends quickly got their trunks off the train, and Mike and Drew soon met back up with Bryt. Harry fell behind for a moment, but soon caught back up to them and they all went through the barrier together. Bryt noticed Mrs. Weasley instantly, as well as Harry's uncle. Bryt looked around and finally spotted her mother waiting nearby. She hoped that her father had been successful in calming down Mrs. Watkins and changing her mind about her wariness of the wizarding world.

"You two head on," Bryt said to her brothers, "I'm gonna say bye to my friends."

Mike and Drew nodded, giving Harry, Ron, and Hermione a quick wave, and headed off towards Mrs. Watkins. Bryt turned from them back to her friends, hugging Harry and Hermione. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure her mother wasn't watching before she leaned up and gave Ron a quick kiss, then glared off at Fred and George when they started wolf-whistling.

"I'll see you over the summer sometime," Bryt said, turning back to her friends, "And I'll write as often as I can."

Bryt turned, heading off to her mother and brothers, hoping that the summer would be an improvement of the last few days at Hogwarts. After everything they'd been through, especially Harry, they needed it.

Unfortunately, as Bryt turned to wave again at her friends, she knew that a normal, quiet summer most likely wouldn't happen. Not with Voldemort out there somewhere, trying to regain power. Bryt could only hope that Dumbledore would be able to stop Voldemort before he got too strong.

* * *

**A/N:** And here ends year four of Bryt's adventure. Thanks to all my readers for sticking through my occasional hiatuses. I still have some small-detail tweaking to work out for Year Five before I start, but I hope to start working on it so I can get it the story started as soon as possible.


End file.
